For Your Love
by LisaRene
Summary: Harry and Ginny struggle to make sense of their friendship and where it might lead amidst a swirl of friends, relationships, classes, emotions, and overcoming the darkness within. A story about friendship, love, and everything in between. 7th Year. HG
1. Prologue & Coming Home

_A/N: _This is a 25-chapter novel that I've just completed writing. I wanted to wait until it was done before I posted it anywhere, and now it's ready! I realize that it may seem odd that I'm posting a pre-HBP novel now, but the first half of it was already written before HBP was released. It is a 7th Year fic, but does not take HBP into account.

I'm planning to post a new chapter each week. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

_Dedicated to Bret, my lovely beta, who asked all the right questions. I couldn't have done it without you._

Prologue 

The Gryffindor common room was strewn with wrapping paper and ribbons; a warm fire crackled in the hearth. The handful of students who had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays lounged on comfy chairs or stretched on the floor, chatting and examining their newest possessions.

Fifteen-year-old Ginny Weasley curled up in a chair with Crookshanks, the ugly but cuddly orange cat belonging to her friend, Hermione Granger.

"Where's Harry gone?" asked Hermione, lifting her head from her newly acquired book _From Medieval to Modern: A History of the Most Influential Witches in Britain _and looking around the room.

"Think he said he was going for a walk," Ginny's brother, Ron, answered from the floor where he was making his way through a box of his mother's fudge and flipping through the latest _Martin Miggs_ comic books he had just received.

"Good," said Hermione, returning to her book, "he looked like he could use some fresh air."

The three of them had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this year to keep Harry company. They couldn't bear the thought of him being alone, especially now. It had been a grueling year for him, having suffered horrors that no sixteen-year-old boy should have to endure. The death of his godfather that summer had tossed him through the breaking point, and as he'd started his sixth year, he had withdrawn so far into himself that his friends feared he might never recover. But time has a way of healing wounds, and in the weeks leading up to Christmas, Harry had seemed to respond to the flurry of activity around the castle. Slowly, he began to emerge from the darkness that had shrouded him.

"That sounds like a nice idea, actually," said Ginny, stretching so that Crookshanks leapt off her lap. "I could do with some fresh air too. Looks lovely outside." She climbed the stairs to her room, grabbed her cloak and red knit mittens, and headed for the portrait hole.

Hermione watched as the other girl crossed the room. "Ginny, if you see Harry…" she began in a gentle warning tone.

"I'm not going to find Harry, Hermione, I'm just going for a walk. I won't bother him." Between Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny thought that Harry had quite enough mother hens worrying over him. She didn't need to add to it.

The front doors of the castle opened to a bright, crisp day. Her breath made clouds in the air as she tramped across the frosty lawn, past the Quidditch pitch, and around to the top of the cliffs behind Hogwarts. This was her favorite place, the cliffs. Not many students dared to venture so near to the edge, and she found it was a perfect spot for when she wanted to be alone.

She picked her way down an old staircase carved in the rocks, which was officially off-limits to students and kept for emergency uses only, but they had become as familiar to her as the trees she'd climbed as a child back at the Burrow. At the bottom, smooth water lapped against the rocks and disappeared into the opening in the cliff wall where the first-years traditionally arrived by boat. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, she turned and made her way to the edge of the rocky beach where the lawn sloped down to meet the lake. She continued along to a grove of trees marking the beginnings of a wide stream, but she realized too late that another person had already claimed this spot. A thin, dark-haired boy sat on a rock, tossing pebbles into the stream.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there, I was just out for a walk. I'll go another way; you probably want to be alone."

Harry hadn't noticed her and started in recognition of her voice. He skipped another rock along the surface of the water without looking at her and stood up. She turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of his voice.

"No, I think I've been alone for long enough."

Something told her that he wasn't just talking about this particular day.

"Walk with me?" he asked. She gave him a sympathetic smile as he fell into step beside her. They continued along the path beside the stream in silence. Harry shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

_I'm tired._

Ginny glanced up at Harry to see if he wanted to stop and rest, but he was still walking along slowly, staring out at the water. She must have imagined it. The water burbled over rocks and under low branches, drowning out the sounds of their footsteps. But after a few minutes, there it was again.

_I'm restless._

They reached the low stone wall at the edge of the Hogwarts border, barring them from continuing on. Ginny gestured to the right, and Harry nodded silently.

_I'm cold._

Harry drew his elbows closer to him and hunched his shoulders against the brisk air. The grass crunched beneath their feet as they stepped off the path and turned to head back toward the castle.

_I'm empty._

And then Ginny began to understand what was happening. Because even though she had felt these things emanating from Harry as clearly as if he had said them, he had not spoken a single word.

Chapter 1 - Coming Home

Harry Potter opened his eyes to the early morning sun at Number Four Privet Drive for the last time and took a deep breath of warm summer air. It was July 31, his seventeenth birthday, and from this day forward he would be considered a fully-fledged, of-age wizard, no longer forced to live under the magical protection that his aunt and uncle's home had afforded him. Arthur Weasley, the father of his best friend, Ron, had used his connections at his Ministry of Magic office to secure a car to bring Harry straight to the Burrow, which would be listed as his official place of residence as he entered his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry stretched and reached for his glasses on the nightstand only to find three owls perched around his room, bearing birthday wishes. He sat up and grabbed Ron's owl, the small, energetic Pigwidgeon, so that he could release him first as he was beginning to annoy the other owls. Once he had untied a small parchment from Pig's leg, the owl zoomed around the room twice before finding his way out the window. Harry shook his head as he unrolled the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you'll be here later today. Just wanted to be the first to wish you Happy Birthday. So, you're finally of age! We'll have to see if we can scare up some trouble doing magic while you're here. Mum's planning a little party for you tonight, you know how she is. See you soon._

_Ron_

Ron had turned seventeen the previous spring at the end of their sixth year. But unlike his brothers, Fred and George, he hadn't felt it was necessary to use magic at every turn just because he was legally allowed. He and Hermione had decided to wait to take their Apparition Tests until Harry could join them. Hermione had already turned seventeen as well, but as she delighted in pointing out to them, one could not Apparate or Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds anyway, so it made no difference to her if they had to wait. They couldn't imagine taking the test without Harry.

He turned to a tawny post owl holding a rectangular package with Hermione's neat writing on it. The owl took the treat he offered and flew out the window as he unwrapped the package and read the letter first.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday! I wish I could be with you today and give you a big hug and tell you how proud I am of you. But, this gift will have to do. I read that it's traditional to give wizards one of these when they turn seventeen, so I hope no one else has gotten one for you._

_I'm traveling in France with my parents on holiday this week, but I'll be at the Burrow for a week in mid-August so we can all take our Apparition Tests together. I can't wait! See you then._

_Love from_

_Hermione_

Opening the box, he pulled out a wand holster made of soft leather. He had often noticed other wizards wearing these and smiled as he snaked the strap around his waist and tried it on. The last owl bore a small chocolate raspberry birthday cake from a bakery in Hogsmeade, courtesy of Hagrid. As much as Harry loved him, he was very grateful that Hagrid had sent a bakery cake rather than trying to make one himself, as Hagrid's creations tended to border on the inedible. He retrieved a small fork from inside the box and ate several large mouthfuls before setting it aside.

Looking out of his window at the sun rising steadily higher, Harry stood up. It would be time to leave soon. He dressed and finished packing his gifts and personal belongings into his trunk, thankful that he could now use his wand to magically expand the inside to accommodate everything and still have room for his Firebolt. His stomach rumbled. He hoped that he could get through breakfast quickly and be on his way when the Ministry car arrived, then realized it was unlikely that Aunt Petunia had even made breakfast for him, probably hoping that he would leave faster if she didn't feed him. He dug out Hagrid's box again and quickly finished off the rest of the cake before thumping down the stairs with his trunk and Hedwig's cage.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he pulled the curtain aside and saw a large black car waiting for him on the street. He looked around for a moment before saying in a loud voice, "I'm leaving!" A scraping sound came from the kitchen, and his aunt and uncle emerged into the hallway, Uncle Vernon dabbing his greasy mustache with a napkin and Aunt Petunia wiping her hands on a dishtowel as they stood in front of him.

Harry exchanged stiff goodbyes with them, his guardians for the past sixteen years. They did not try to pretend that they were sad to see him go, but Uncle Vernon held out his hand as a parting gesture and mumbled, "Good luck, boy, with whatever nonsense it is that you're going to do now," while Aunt Petunia said, "You haven't left anything behind, have you? Because I won't be sending it along if you have." And then, in a rare moment of regret and pity for her only sister's son, she embraced him rigidly (the only time Harry could ever remember her hugging him at all) saying, "Be sure to keep out of trouble," and then withdrew behind her husband, looking down and pretending to smooth her skirt. His cousin, Dudley, could not even be bothered to haul his fat behind off the couch where he sat laughing at one of the mindless television programs that he watched endlessly.

"Goodbye," Harry said with a forced smile before wheeling his trunk, containing all of his earthly belongings, and Hedwig's cage out the door to where the Ministry car and driver stood waiting for him. He looked up in surprise when he recognized the driver's face, hidden behind his black cap.

"Remus?"

"Hello, Harry," said his old professor. "Everything alright, I trust?"

"What are you doing here? Did the Order send you?"

Remus nodded. "We thought it best that one of us accompany you to the Burrow, just as an extra precaution. I volunteered for the job."

Harry had become somewhat accustomed to the fact that he was under the special protection of the Order of the Phoenix ever since Lord Voldemort's return two years before. He mostly felt their presence during school holidays when he was away from Hogwarts, but now it was comforting to see the face of an old friend. The constant threat of Voldemort was in the back of everyone's minds, with the attacks that had been occurring sporadically. They were all waiting for the next one, knowing it was inevitable.

He handed his things over and turned to look at the house once more. Images flashed through his mind - the cupboard under the stairs where he had been forced to live for ten years of his life, believing that his parents had died in a car crash, being beaten up by Dudley and despised by his aunt and uncle. He pushed those thoughts from his mind now and left them in a heap on Uncle Vernon's manicured front lawn. They were in his past now, and he didn't ever want them cluttering his head again. He had enough to occupy his mind these days.

"Good riddance," he said under his breath, climbing in the car, and relaxing into the soft gray interior. He didn't look back as the car pulled away from the curb, and he allowed himself to let go. He was free.

As the car traveled leisurely through Little Whinging, Harry thought back to a conversation he'd had with Professor Dumbledore at the end of his sixth year, just over a month before. The headmaster had asked to meet with Harry to discuss what would happen after he turned seventeen.

_"Harry, I know you understand that when I placed you with the Dursleys as a baby, it was for your own protection."_

_"Yes, I know that, sir," Harry had said uncomfortably, not sure why Dumbledore was bringing up this subject again._

_"But I also understand how unpleasant that situation has been for you, so I have taken the liberty of arranging other accommodations for you once you come of age on your next birthday. That is, if you agree, of course."_

_Harry sat up straighter. He had always dreamed of being able to live with his godfather, Sirius, one day. But now Sirius was gone, and he had nearly been crushed from the weight of that loss. If it couldn't be with Sirius, there was only one other place he'd rather live._

_"I have contacted Arthur and Molly Weasley and they have graciously agreed to offer their home as your place of residence for as long as you wish." Dumbledore smiled as Harry's face lit up in surprise. "The Burrow, as you know, has its own strong magic and Arthur has assured me that the wards will be reinforced prior to your arrival."_

_"Thank you, sir. I don't know what to say." Harry felt elated at the thought of finally being able to leave the Dursleys forever._

_Dumbledore inclined his head. "You're welcome. Even though you have certainly proven that you can take care of yourself time and time again, I know that I, and those who care about you, want nothing more than to see you happy and with those you love. However," he continued, "I must remind you to remain cautious. When you come of age, you will no longer be looked upon as a child in the wizarding world, but as an adult. And while I am sure you are looking forward to all of the freedoms that will afford you, there are drawbacks as well."_

_"You mean Voldemort," Harry began. "I understand my responsibility, sir. I know it's only a matter of time before I have to face him again."_

_"I'm sure you do, Harry, though it is not Lord Voldemort to whom I am referring. He is a threat to you no matter what your age, and I know you feel that deeply enough not to have to dwell on it here. No, I am referring to a less evil, though equally cunning, group of people… the Press."_

_"The Press?" Harry said blankly. "What have they got to do with me being an adult?"_

_"You were not aware, but from the time you arrived at Hogwarts, I have made it clear to the Wizarding Press that they would not be permitted to interfere with your upbringing or schooling. Special wards were put up here and at the Dursleys which prevented any photographers or reporters that would wish to exploit you from gaining access to you."_

_"But what about…"_

_"Rita Skeeter." Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I'm afraid she was a necessary evil that I would have rather avoided. But with the Triwizard Tournament being an international event, I could hardly forbid press coverage of it. It would have reflected badly not only on this school but on our relationships with the other schools that were participating. I am only sorry that she caused you undue stress during what was already a horrific year for you. It did, however, strengthen my resolve to keep the Press from exploiting you further. And fortunately, Miss Granger disposed of Rita quite nicely if I remember," he chuckled._

_"But the purpose of this chat, Harry, is so that you may understand that once you turn seventeen, the Press will most likely no longer grant you the wide berth that they did as an underaged wizard. You are famous and, like it or not, a symbol of hope for many during these times. As an adult, the Press will consider you fair game, and Magical Law will uphold their right to do so. The wards here at Hogwarts, and eventually at the Burrow, will remain in place to protect you, but venture outside of those protections, and you will be on your own. Do you understand?"_

_Harry stared at his hands clasped in his lap, taking in Dumbledore's words. He had never really taken the time to think about it, but with the exception of Rita Skeeter, he had, in fact, led a relatively anonymous life since entering the wizarding world. The press attention he had received was during times he had been thrown into the public spotlight - especially during and after the Triwizard Tournament - but he had to admit he had not been hassled in his everyday life. He hated the fact that he was famous and that his actions, intended or not, had made him into a hero, but Dumbledore was right. He supposed this was something he would just have to get used to. He looked up and nodded._

_"Do you have any advice on how to handle them?"_

_Dumbledore sat back in his chair and looked over his spectacles at Harry. "I will only say that there may be times when it will be to your advantage to make yourself available, and times that it would be better to remain… invisible," he said with a raised eyebrow to make his meaning clear. "It will be up to you to distinguish which is which."_

Harry stared out the car window as village streets gave way to country lanes, and soon they were traveling on a secluded road with wide fields on either side. Remus turned around to Harry.

"I'll be jumping to the Burrow now; just hang on to your seat."

Harry held tightly to the door handle as the car sped up a bit and disappeared with a loud _crack_, reappearing on a tree-lined dirt road just outside the sleepy village of Ottery St. Catchpole. They turned into an unmarked driveway between the trees and rumbled down the long, narrow path which led to the Burrow. Harry leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the house, a tightness forming in his chest as he felt once again the loss of being able to live with Sirius and learn from him, to be part of that connection with his parents, his past.

"You know, Harry," Remus said from the front, as if reading his mind, "Sirius and Molly didn't always see eye to eye about you, but he would be glad that you are living with the Weasleys now, that you're with people who care about you."

Harry took in the worn but comfortable home, its teetering frame rising up to the sky, dotted by gabled windows and smoke stacks jutting out at odd angles, and a pang of guilt nagged at him. He was being ungrateful. The Weasleys regarded him as family; maybe it was time he started thinking of them as his family as well.

"Thanks, Remus," he said.

Mrs. Weasley's short, plump frame could be seen in the front yard feeding the chickens, which skittered away at the sound of the car. She turned to see what the commotion was, but at the sight of Harry's face in the window, she broke into a smile, set down her basket, and hurried toward them. Harry opened the door and stepped out, smiling.

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said lovingly before enveloping him in a great hug and squeezing him tight. "Welcome home."

Harry felt a lump rise in his throat as he whispered, "Thank you."

Mrs. Weasley turned to Remus, who was retrieving Harry's trunk, and chatted with him briefly. "Thank you so much, Remus, for collecting Harry. Arthur and I appreciate you taking the time out to see him here safely. Can you step in for a bite to eat?"

"My pleasure, Molly. But no, I have to be getting back," he said. "Goodbye, Harry, I'm sure we'll see each other soon." He waved and Harry watched as he drove out of sight.

The front door of the Burrow opened and a tall redhead stepped out, breaking into a grin. "Hey!" he yelled, jogging toward them. His lanky frame had filled out nicely over the past few years, and even though Harry had grown as well, his friend still stood a few inches taller.

"Hey, Ron," Harry grinned as they slapped each other on the back.

"Have you had breakfast, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Ron took out his wand and levitated Harry's trunk toward the house.

"Not really, just some birthday cake that Hagrid sent," Harry said, following behind her with Hedwig's cage. Ron grimaced, but Harry quickly clarified. "A bakery cake. It was from a bakery."

"Ah," Ron nodded.

Mrs. Weasley turned. "Now really, what kind of a breakfast is that for a growing boy? You come inside and we'll fix you right up."

Harry knew better than to argue with Molly Weasley, even though he wasn't really that hungry. She set about making a fry-up for him while he looked around the kitchen, letting the smells and noises of the Burrow fill his senses, touching and picking up things here and there, willing himself to believe that this was his home. He stopped in front of the large grandfather clock that stood between the kitchen and living room when he noticed his face staring back at him from a small golden hand attached to the clock with his picture on it, pointing to the word "Home." His mouth dropped open, and he reached out to touch the hand with his name carved into the stem.

"Do you like it?" Ron had come to stand beside him, smiling. "It was Ginny's idea."

"Yeah," Harry started but had to stop and clear his throat. "Yeah, it's really…" He shook his head in wonder, speechless. Ron chuckled and thumped him on the back. Harry pulled himself away and returned to the table, tucking in to a large plate of sausages and eggs while Ron stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up out of the kitchen to the bedrooms above.

"Ginny! Harry's here!"


	2. Finding a Place

_A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'll have a new chapter up next week. Hope to see you then._

Chapter 2 - Finding a Place

Ginny sat up on her bed and closed her book, which she had been staring at without really reading ever since she had heard the car rumbling down the drive. He was here. Not only was he here, he was _living_ here. She had forced herself to stay in her room until she heard her brother calling, knowing that Harry wasn't one for fanfare; he would want some time to settle in before being pounced on. She sighed. Harry.

Her pulse quickened and she chastised herself. The vestiges of her childhood crush on The Boy Who Lived had long since faded, but there was still an admiration there, a longing to know him, that had never really left her. She had fought along with him in the Department of Mysteries, confronted him about her experience of being possessed and reminded him of the unique trials they had shared, but still he had been reluctant to let her in, and she had resolved that she would not fall under his spell again but would only offer her friendship as much as he needed or wanted it.

When she had finally given up on ever attracting his attentions in her third year, she had opened herself up to the possibilities of other boys. Neville had been so sweet to take her to the Yule Ball, and it was there that she met her first real boyfriend, Michael Corner. She had welcomed the chance to get to know Michael, who was a year older than she and a Ravenclaw. So unlike Harry, he had made her feel wanted, had taught her how to kiss and brought out the Ginny that she had been before she met Harry - carefree, sharp-tongued and girlish. She and Michael had shared secret glances, and he made her heart flutter. But in the end, it hadn't been enough, and after a year they had drifted apart, becoming increasingly disenchanted with each other. Different houses, different friends. Ginny stealing the snitch from under Cho Chang's nose at the Ravenclaw match had been the last straw, and when he had berated her and said that Cho was clearly the better player, she had dumped him in a fit of disgust. She had been angry at his pettiness, but also a little relieved to be free of him.

And then the war had begun. The battle at the Department of Mysteries had brought her feelings for Harry back in a flood; his strength, his resolve, his pain reminding her of why she loved him. Throughout the next year, safe inside the walls of Hogwarts, she had watched Harry wrap himself in grief and anger as outside, the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry fought valiantly against the ever-increasing threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

But at Christmas he had appeared to turn a corner. They had shared a quiet walk by the stream and after that, he had seemed to be more himself, loving Quidditch again, joining in their common room chats and trips to the library. But Ginny could feel that he was still hurting. She knew that she was peripheral, a constant in the network of people who supported him and understood him, but not more to him than anyone else.

And now, he was here.

She checked herself in the mirror, running her fingers through her thick, ginger hair.

"You look lovely dear, like an apple blossom on a warm spring day," the oval mirror above her dresser said liltingly. Ginny rolled her eyes and allowed herself a small smile. She had never thought of herself as being particularly pretty, but her mother had enchanted the mirror when she was a little girl to pay her sweet compliments, and she had grown used to the sentiments.

She entered the kitchen casually just as Ron was telling Harry that he would be staying in Bill's old room, which was just below Ron's. They had discussed it as a family and decided that it was only right that Harry should have his own room if he was to be living here now. Bill rarely visited the Burrow these days anyway.

"Harry, you're here!"

Harry looked up from his plate and smiled. It felt right to see him sitting there in her kitchen. This was where he belonged, not with those horrible relatives of his. Her eyes lit up and she gave him her brightest smile. He stood, greeting her with a friendly hug and a "Hi, Gin" before resuming his breakfast.

"Mum's filling you up already? Better get used to it," she grinned and took a seat, snatching a piece of toast from the center of the table. "Happy Birthday!"

"Fanks," he said through a mouthful of food.

When he had finished, Ron said, "Come up and see your room." The three of them climbed the stairs, past Ginny's room, to the fourth landing where Ron opened the door on the left, across from Charlie's old room. Harry stepped into the small room that looked out over the walled garden. Most of Bill's things were long since gone, but the room was comfortable with a twin bed covered with one of Mrs. Weasley's crocheted afghans, a writing desk and a small bookshelf. The walls were bare except for two large, orange Chudley Cannons posters that Ron had donated from his room.

Ron and Ginny watched nervously from the doorway, hoping Harry would like it. "Thought they'd brighten up the place a bit," Ron said as Harry watched the Cannons swooping and diving in and out of view.

"Thanks guys. It's perfect."

Ron smiled. "We'll let you unpack then. C'mon Gin," he said as he headed back downstairs.

Ginny lingered for a moment. "Harry?" He turned to her expectantly. "We're really glad you're here."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. "Me too."

Ginny clicked the door shut behind her. But instead of unpacking, Harry sat on the bed and just rested in the comfort of home. For a long time.

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The day Harry had arrived at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley had given a small birthday party for him that evening after dinner, complete with cake and presents. The elder Weasleys had presented him with a new set of everyday robes, black with silver trim, and had told him it was something they had done with all of their sons when they turned seventeen, giving them their first set of non-school robes. He had been deeply touched, not least because he knew that purchasing new clothing was a special occurrence in the Weasley household, having witnessed Ron's hand-me-down wardrobe for years. He recalled that Ron had received a similar set on his birthday a few months before.

Ron had given him two tickets to a Chudley Cannons home match later that week, so they could both go together. Ginny had given him a long-sleeved, orange Cannons shirt, completing the package, and after much cajoling and pleading from her, they had agreed to let her to tag along to the match as well. And so it was that Harry found himself tumbling out of the fireplace into the Chudley Cannons Stadium welcoming area on a Saturday afternoon, joining Ron and Ginny who were brushing themselves off.

The boys waited while Ginny bought her ticket, then followed the sea of orange shirts and banners to their upper level seats on the Cannons' side, front row, in the middle of the pitch. Across the field, enchanted bats swayed on sticks as fans for the opposing Ballycastle Bats took their seats.

"The Bats are 3 for 3 so far, but I reckon we can still beat them as long as Gudgeon can spot the Snitch first," said Ron hopefully. Harry, who was sitting in the middle, turned to Ginny and raised his eyebrow. She shook her head with a just-humor-him look and offered him a Fizzing Whizbee. Harry only supported the Cannons out of loyalty to Ron, despite their losing record. But he had never seen the Bats play and was interested to see their new Seeker, Finn Langley.

The match began with the Cannons unexpectedly scoring twice in a row, bringing the crowd to their feet. They whooped and clapped as Ron leaned toward Harry and shouted, "Told you they'd do alright!" Laughing and shouting, they were oblivious to a soft clicking sound coming from the Press Box, located directly across the field from them.

Their victory was short-lived, however, as the Bats quickly recovered and outscored the Cannons two to one for the remainder of the match. Mercifully, Langley caught the Snitch within an hour and the Bats won, 290-70.

As they gathered their things and made their way back toward the queue for the Floo, Harry turned to Ron. "Thanks for the tickets. Sorry we lost though."

Ron shrugged. "Eh, you win some, you lose some."

Harry turned to Ginny and whispered, "Mostly lose some." Ginny stifled a giggle and swatted his arm.

"Very funny," Ron scowled.

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Harry came down to breakfast the next morning in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, as seemed to be the custom in the Weasley household. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones in the kitchen, Mr. Weasley having already left for work and Ron not up and about yet.

"Morning," he said sleepily and dropped into a chair.

Ginny and her mother glanced at each other. Ginny gestured to Harry, but her mother shook her head and busied herself at the stove.

"What," Harry said, looking back and forth between them.

"Show him, mum," Ginny said. But Mrs. Weasley ignored her and carried a frying pan over to Harry.

"Show me what?" he said anxiously. "Something's happened."

"Of course not dear," she said, piling eggs onto his plate. "Bacon?" Harry looked to Ginny.

"Honestly, Mum, he'll see it eventually."

"Ginny," her mother warned.

Ginny sighed. "There's a bit about you in the _Prophet_ this morning, but mum doesn't want you to see it."

"Ginevra Molly!"

"Mum, you're making a big deal out of nothing. Just show him!"

With an exasperated look at her daughter, Molly withdrew the _Daily Prophet_ from her apron pocket and set it on the table, clucking under her breath, "It's not right… a boy of your age… they should just leave you alone… you've already been through so much."

It took a moment for Harry to register what he was looking at, but then his jaw clenched. Staring back at him from the front page was his own smiling face, along with Ron's and Ginny's, at the previous day's Quidditch match. They were standing at their seats, cheering and clapping, and every few seconds Ron leaned over and spoke into Harry's ear. The caption under the photo read:

_Harry Potter, 17, takes time out to enjoy a Quidditch match yesterday with friends Ron and Virginia Weasley._

"They've got your name wrong," he said to Ginny absently, but his fingers tightened on the paper, betraying how angry he was that some photographer had managed to snap a photo of them without his knowledge. His eyes traveled to the accompanying article titled "Harry Potter Comes Of Age." He scanned it, repeating some of the phrases under his breath. "Boy Who Lived… last year at Hogwarts… Gryffindor Quidditch Captain… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named … constant companions… Looks like they've got me covered, doesn't it. My life in a nutshell." He continued to read in silence until he reached the end. "We wish him well in his future… Oh, that's alright then, as long as they're wishing me _well_."

He tossed the paper onto the table and picked up his fork, holding it suspended over his eggs, lost in thought. Ginny's mother gave her a reproachful look.

"Harry, it's just a silly article," Ginny said quietly.

"Is this how it's going to be then, every time I go out someone will be lurking in the corner, snapping my picture?" Harry asked, staring at his plate.

Ginny tried to sound reassuring. "Not necessarily. It was probably one of the photographers who was already there to cover the match, and he just spotted you in the crowd."

"Of course not." Mrs. Weasley sat down next to him and patted his shoulder. "You've just come of age, people are interested to know what you're doing. Especially now that..." Her voice faltered. "It will die down, don't you worry."

"Dumbledore warned me about this."

"He did?" Ginny asked, surprised.

He nodded. "End of last term, about the Press having access to me. I just didn't think it would be so soon." He picked at his eggs and finally set down his fork. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I'm not very hungry just now."

"Quite alright, dear."

He pushed back his chair and stood up just as Ron came down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Hey look, our picture's in the paper!" he exclaimed, picking up the _Prophet_.

Harry gestured to his untouched plate. "Knock yourself out," he muttered and headed upstairs to his room.

"What's with him?"

"Your powers of perception are astounding, Ron," Ginny snapped as she rose to follow Harry up the stairs.

Ron shrugged, sat down in Harry's vacated seat, and began shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Ginny reached Harry's closed door and stood in front of it. She knew he didn't like to be singled out for being the Boy Who Lived, but she wasn't going to let him wallow in this. Maybe if he could just blow off some steam...

"Harry?" she called.

"I'm okay, Gin, really."

"I know. It's just that mum wants us to degnome the garden later, so let me know when you want to go out." She waited for his response, but none came. "Alright?" she called again.

Harry stared at the door, feeling a sense of relief that she wasn't trying to coddle him. Actually, throwing gnomes over a garden wall sounded like just what he needed.

"Yeah, I'll be right down."

Half an hour later they were in the garden, both dressed in grubby clothes. Harry crouched next to a gnome hole and thumped on the ground with a large stick like Ginny had shown him. He didn't have to wait long before a small, gnarled creature stuck his head out of the hole to see what all the noise was about. He lifted the gnome by the ears and stood, grabbing its legs and twirling it around his head twice before letting it fly over the low wall and into the field.

"Oh, come on, even I can throw farther than that," Ginny challenged as she hurled another over the wall, landing it a good ten feet beyond Harry's. "Swing them good and hard."

Harry watched her, tossing the hair from her face and brushing off her dirty hands. She looked so vibrant with her flushed cheeks and taunting smile. Not to be outdone, he chased another gnome and tackled it, perhaps a bit more harshly than necessary, swung it around and flung it so hard into the field that it stood up, wobbled briefly, and fell back down again. He felt the adrenaline begin to pump through his veins.

"That's it!" Ginny yelled. She stepped back and left him to it, watching his quick reflexes as he snatched them, one by one, each flying farther than the last.

Ron came out of the kitchen door, fresh from a shower, and stood next to Ginny. "Need any help?"

She held up her hand and shook her head. "Shh. Just let him do it."

"What's he doing?"

"Just a bit of gnome therapy."

"Ah, yes, gnome therapy," said Ron appreciatively. He had used it himself many times. Having raised seven children, Molly Weasley had become adept at finding useful ways to channel teenage aggressions over the years. "Was he really upset about that article?"

"I don't think so," Ginny sighed as another gnome soared through the air. "He just needed something to take his mind off it."

Ron glanced sideways at his sister. She had always had an uncanny ability to know how people felt and what they needed, when to push and when to back off. But he thought that Harry had fallen off her radar over the past few years since she had given up her crush on him. Apparently, she had been paying more attention than he realized.

Harry tossed the last one over the wall and looked up to see Ginny and Ron surveying him. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and plucked at his sweaty shirt. His back ached, but his mind was clear, the fresh air and exertion filling him with a rush.

"Quite a workout, isn't it?" grinned Ron.

"Felt good though," said Harry, walking over to them. He noted Ginny's satisfied look.

Back in the house, Ginny started up the stairs to her room. Harry mumbled something to Ron about taking a shower and followed her. He caught her up on the third landing, pausing with his hand on the bathroom door across from her room.

"Gin…" She turned in her doorway and waited. "Thanks. I needed that."

She smiled and said, "You're welcome."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Grey clouds darkened the sky a few days later as Harry and Ron stood in the living room, contemplating their morning chores. Now that he was a more permanent member of the family, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had made it clear that Harry would be expected to function as a member of the family as well.

This morning, he and Ron had been charged with cleaning the large fireplace that the Weasleys used for Floo travel. Ron showed him how to use the _Scourgify_ spell to clear away the soot, but owing to Harry's unfamiliarity with the finer points of housecleaning spells, he put a bit more force behind it than necessary. The black powder blew into the room, covering them and the carpet in a dirty layer of ash.

"Listen," said Ron, his blue eyes shining out from his blackened face, "you have to learn how to do this because mum's going to blame _me_ if you don't."

"Then why don't you do it yourself?" Harry asked.

"Can't. Mum said she wants you to learn how to do it. Something about it being good for you, I don't know." Ron breathed out loudly and brushed his fringe from his eyes. He was trying to let his hair grow a little longer, like Bill's, but couldn't decide if he liked it yet. Though at the moment it seemed more of a hindrance than it was worth.

Ron pointed his wand at himself, then at Harry, cleaning the soot off of them. "Alright, try it again. Do the carpet first; just wave your wand slowly. I know, pretend you're using one of those Muggle things... those Hoomers."

"Hoovers?" Harry asked, "How do you know about those?"

"Dad. I think he's got one out in the shed, confiscated it from a witch who tried to enchant it to clean up after her dogs. But then I think it started chasing after the other dogs in the neighborhood as well. Dad's office had to do a load of Memory Charms for that one. Anyway, he's got it all taken apart, doubt it even works now."

Harry followed Ron's instructions and, by moving his wand slowly back and forth over the soiled carpet, was able to clean it reasonably well. They moved on to the fireplace and had it done in no time. Ron finished up by casting a polishing spell on the stone hearth until it sparkled.

Harry was duly impressed. "You know, you're not bad with those cleaning spells. Hermione would be impressed."

"Hermione. Impressed with me. Yeah, that'd be a first," Ron snorted, though Harry noticed a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The kitchen door banged open and they looked up to see Ginny coming in, shaking a light rain from her hair. She scrubbed her hands in the sink, having just finished weeding the flower beds along the side of the house.

"What are you up to today?" she asked as the boys came into the kitchen.

"After lunch we're going to Diagon Alley. Got to do some shopping," Ron said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "We are?"

"Oh?" Ginny's asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

"But you can't come."

"Why not?" she frowned.

"Because we don't want you to," Ron said, shifting uncomfortably. "Just shove off."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and tossed the dishtowel she had been drying her hands with onto the counter. "Prat," she hissed as she brushed past him.

"Nosy parker," he returned.

She paused at the stairs and turned to look at Harry, but he only shrugged and tried to look innocent. Ginny rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs to her room.

"What was all that about?" Harry asked. "Why are we going _shopping_?"

Ron shushed him and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I have to find a birthday present for Ginny."

Harry felt a momentary pang of guilt that he had forgotten Ginny's birthday. Then he realized that he didn't even know when it was; he had certainly never gotten her a gift before. "It's Ginny's birthday?"

"This Sunday, the 11th." Ron furrowed his brow. "Mum's having a big party; most of the family's coming in for it. Don't you remember? Hermione's coming, too."

"Oh," Harry nodded. "I guess she did mention that she was coming for a holiday in mid-August. I didn't know it was for Ginny's birthday."

"Did you get her anything? You don't have to, you know."

"No, I'll get her something," he said, though Harry had no idea what a sixteen-year-old girl might like for her birthday. "What does she want?"

"Mum gave me some ideas, we'll find something."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Harry and Ron ducked into Flourish and Blotts to get out of the steady rain that was now falling. They had already stopped at Gringotts, spent a good deal of time browsing in Quality Quidditch Supplies, stopped at Florean Fortescue's where Harry treated them to some ice cream, and were just now getting to the purpose of their trip.

"Ok, I'm sure we can find something for Ginny in here. Mum said she wants..." Ron fished a scrap of parchment from his back pocket, "writing supplies, hair clips, a new bag for schoolbooks, or any books by India Barnes."

Harry scanned the list. "What are these... books by India Barnes?"

"It's a novel series. I've never read them, but Ginny loves them."

"Does she already own any?"

Ron's face creased in thought. "I don't think so. She usually borrows them from her friends at school."

"Well, that sounds good, I'll look for those then," said Harry.

"Ok, I'll look for..." Ron consulted the list again, "writing supplies."

They split up and began browsing through the stacks and tables. As Harry looked for the "B" section, an unsettling thought occurred to him. He hoped these books weren't some kind of trashy romance novels with half-naked witches and wizards lounging on the covers. He would feel awkward giving Ginny something like that, whether she loved them or not. He found the correct shelf and tilted his head to the side to better read the authors' names: Bachum, Banet, Barker, Bartleby. No Barnes.

He frowned and turned to a clerk who was stacking books on a shelf nearby. "Excuse me, do you have any books by India Barnes? They don't seem to be in the Bs here."

"Yes, we certainly do," said the middle-aged man as he straightened up and adjusted his glasses. A start of recognition crossed his face as his gaze fell on Harry. "Oh, Mr. Potter! Excuse me, I didn't know it was you."

Harry felt a jolt of embarrassment, but the man wore a kind smile. He seemed to be expecting Harry to say something, but when nothing witty or charming came to mind, Harry settled on a lopsided smile and an acknowledging nod.

"Well," said the man briskly, holding up a finger, "if you'll just follow me, I can show you right where they are." He led Harry to the center of the shop where a round table stood, covered with a variety of books in paperback and hardcover, all by India Barnes. Harry felt another wave of embarrassment that he hadn't noticed it before; he must have walked right past it.

"Ms. Barnes has just released a boxed set of her most popular novels, so we've set up a special display," said the man, pointing to a rectangular box holding six books. "It's been quite popular among young witches this summer. Are you considering it for a gift perhaps?"

"Yes, for a friend of mine," Harry said, beginning to wish the man would just go away.

"An excellent choice, I'm sure she will enjoy it. If you need anything else, Mr. Potter, please let me know."

Harry nodded and smiled. "Thank you," he said as the man bustled away.

He picked up one of the books titled _A Light in the Window_ from the table and studied the cover. A slender witch with long dark hair who looked to be in her twenties stared back at him. She stood on a moor with the wind whipping her hair and cloak back and forth. In her right hand she gripped a wand, and her blue eyes fixed him with a strong, determined stare. The sky behind her was dark and in the distance, a lighthouse stood on the edge of a cliff. All the books featured the same witch in various, determined poses with similar sounding titles - _A Stranger at the Door, A Portal to the Edge…_

He flipped over the one he was holding and read the back.

_Mystery and intrigue continue in this fourth installment of India Barnes' Elena Bronwen series. Elena__searches for the one man who can clear her father's name when she stumbles onto a mysterious lighthouse. Do the people of the lighthouse know something that can help her, or do they hold a secret all their own?_

Harry thought that sounded sort of interesting, actually. He was momentarily impressed by Ginny's good taste. He picked up the boxed set and looked for the price: twenty galleons. Harry knew it was more than any of the Weasleys would probably spend on a gift for Ginny, but he hesitated only a second before deciding on it.

He found Ron at a display of stationery, looking at two writing boxes each containing a packet of decorated parchment, two self-inking quills, a wax seal, and a small book.

"I thought these were nice," he said, looking up at Harry. "Look, they have this little book of different spells that you can put on the parchments, like if you only want a certain person to be able to read it, or you can transfigure the words into codes. That's kind of cool."

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"Which one do you like better?" One box was decorated with yellow butterflies, the other with red flowers.

"I don't know," said Harry. "Flowers. They look more grown up."

"Yeah, that's good." Ron picked up the box and they turned toward the checkout. "What'd you find?"

Harry held up the books.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "You're getting her the whole set?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know which ones she's already read, so I figured this would be good. Why, do you think it's too much?"

Ron set his box on the counter. "It's a bit pricey, isn't it? But it's up to you, I'm sure she'll love it."

"So, I see you've decided on the boxed set then. Very good." The man who had helped Harry before rang up their purchases. "And you must be Mr. Potter's friend, Mr. Weasley is it? I saw your picture in the _Prophet_ earlier this week."

"I must be," said Ron, with an amused grin.

"Well, I hope you'll both have a successful last year at Hogwarts. Good day," he smiled and turned to the next customer waiting in line.

They left the shop and headed toward the Leaky Cauldron where they would Floo back to the Burrow. The rain had stopped and a warm dampness hung in the air.

"What was that all about?" asked Ron, trying not to smile.

"You heard him, saw us in the _Prophet_," Harry sighed. "He helped me find the books before. Crickey, I hope not every wizard and their brother are going to try to chat me up now that that stupid article's been in the paper," he mumbled.

"Yeah, you sure do have it rough," Ron teased. "People smiling at you and wanting to be nice to you all the time. Must be hell."

Harry smirked and punched Ron in the arm. "Stuff it."


	3. Birthday Girl

_A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for reading and reviewing. I spent way too much time deciding what to have for Ginny's special birthday breakfast in this one, but I love this chapter. It sets up a lot of things that will happen later. Look for a new chapter next week!_

Chapter 3 - Birthday Girl 

When Harry and Ron came down to breakfast on Sunday morning, Ginny was already at the table in her pajamas and a light summer robe while Mrs. Weasley was busy at the stove. The windows were open and a warm breeze carried the smell of fresh cut grass into the kitchen. Ron tousled Ginny's hair as he passed and said, "Happy Birthday, Princess."

They sat down across from her and it was then that Harry saw the pink plate sitting in front of Ginny with the words "Princess for a Day" emblazoned around the edge. In the center was a small fairy who danced around, touching her wand to the letters and making them sparkle.

"It's my special birthday plate," explained Ginny, slightly embarrassed. "I've used it every year since I was three."

"And we all have to call her 'princess' at least once on her birthday," Ron added. "It's the rule." He smiled broadly at Ginny, who chuckled and made a funny face back at him. Ron made another back at her, and Mrs. Weasley turned to smile at them.

Harry watched them. He knew that as the youngest of the Weasleys, Ron and Ginny had always been close, but he had never really seen them this way, playful and childish. It struck him once again how different his own childhood had been from theirs.

"What's that for?" Harry asked, pointing next to the plate where a pink wand lay with streamers attached to one end.

"Birthday wand," Ginny said, picking it up. She did a simple swish and flick and a stream of enchanted butterflies burst from the end, fluttering around their heads before popping like bubbles as they settled on the table. "It's just a toy."

Harry was fascinated; he'd never had any experience with wizarding children's playthings. "And you've had that since you were little as well?" Ginny smiled and nodded.

They heard the stairs creak heavily as Arthur Weasley came into view. Ron leaned over to Harry. "Oh, watch this."

"Princess Ginny," Arthur called, "what do you desire on this fine birthday morning? Your wish is my command." He puffed up his chest like a king surveying his castle.

Ron whispered to Harry, "They do this every year."

Ginny giggled and replied, "Waffles with strawberries and cream please."

"She gets dessert for breakfast?" Harry asked Ron.

"Only today," he replied.

Arthur looked at Molly, who stepped away from the stove and nodded. He raised his wand and two perfectly square Belgian waffles danced through the air onto Ginny's plate, followed by fresh strawberries and a pot of cream to drench the top.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," he beamed, taking his own seat.

"Thank you, daddy," Ginny said with a warm smile.

While she tucked in to her breakfast, Mrs. Weasley set out food for everyone else. When she finally sat down, she took Ginny's hand and her eyes crinkled in a smile. "I hope you don't feel you're too old for all this silliness."

Even though Ginny and her mother were sometimes at odds, especially now that she was getting older, it was still comforting to have these little family rituals, to feel like she could be a child again with nothing more to worry about than getting waffles on her birthday. "Never," she said, squeezing her mum's hand. She caught Harry's eye as she ate. He had such a thoughtful look on his face, and she realized that this kind of family display must be very different from what he was used to. She was glad he was here to share it.

When the breakfast dishes were cleared, Harry, Ginny and Ron trooped upstairs to get dressed. After Ron disappeared into the bathroom, Ginny paused on the landing outside her room and turned to Harry.

"Sorry you had to sit through all that," she smiled. "Mum likes to do it every year and, well, it's sort of sweet and fun."

Harry looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, no, I liked it…princess."

"Oh," Ginny colored and waved him away, "you don't have to call me that."

"I'm just teasing. Happy Birthday," he said as he reached out and gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks." She watched him climb the stairs to his room before opening the door to her own.

After she had showered and dressed, she heard her mother call from the kitchen.

"Ginny! Owl for you!"

"Okay!" she called, finishing the drying spell on her hair and pulling it back into a thick ponytail. She jogged downstairs and saw the envelope lying on the table with her name on it. As she picked it up, she glanced out the window to see the boys setting off up the hill with their broomsticks. Maybe she would join them later. She recognized the handwriting on the envelope and smiled as she opened it.

She unfolded the parchment to reveal a photograph of herself and the other Gryffindors in her year sitting on the grass by the lake at Hogwarts, laughing and relaxed. It was the day they had taken their final O.W.L. exams just a few months before, at the end of their fifth year. There she was, on the left, sitting next to her roommates, Maura McClaren and Anna Naughton. Beside them were Sean Jacobs with his arms wrapped around Abby Howard (Sean and Abby had just become a couple, and Maura and Anna had declared them the cutest thing since sliced bread), and on the far right, a wiry boy with dark hair and glasses named Aiden Thompson and a sandy-haired boy named Graham Hawkins.

Ginny watched them all waving and smiling at her from the picture. After a few seconds, the head of a thin, blonde boy appeared briefly in the frame next to Ginny, waving quickly before disappearing again. Ginny chuckled when she saw him. It was so like him, always taking great pictures of everyone else, but never really in them himself. She set the picture aside and turned to the letter that came with it.

_Hi Ginny,_

_Happy Birthday! Hope you are having a wonderful day. I thought this picture of all of us turned out great. Thinking of you. See you soon._

_Colin_

She sighed and smiled. What a sweetheart, she thought, to remember her birthday. Colin Creevey had become a valued friend to Ginny during their time at Hogwarts. They had shared an unhealthy hero worship of Harry in their younger days, though they showed it in very different ways. Ginny had become tongue-tied and clumsy around Harry, whereas Colin had talked about, photographed, and generally chatted him up at every turn. She remembered being somewhat envious of Colin's good-natured self-confidence, even though she knew Harry was less than flattered by all the attention.

But as they had grown older, and came to know Harry as a real person rather than The Boy Who Lived, Ginny and Colin had formed a friendship of their own. She enjoyed chatting with him or doing revision together with their other classmates. He could always make her laugh with his outgoing personality, and when she had dumped Michael Corner, Colin had stayed up late with her in the common room, telling her jokes and doing impersonations of Michael until she was clutching her stomach in laughter.

She ran upstairs to put the picture on her bookshelf, tucking the letter into her desk, and headed back outside to join the boys. Rummaging through the shed, she found Percy's old broom that he had given her when he left home. It was nothing to Harry's Firebolt, but it kept up well enough for pick-up games of Quidditch at the Burrow.

When she reached the top of the small hill behind the house, she entered the large paddock that the Weasley brothers had used for Quidditch ever since she could remember. It was surrounded by tall trees, shielding the flyers from the Muggle village below as long as they were careful not to fly above the tree line.

Ginny shielded her eyes and watched Ron and Harry flying lazily around in circles. The sun was warm and there was a slight breeze. Harry looped up into the air and she marveled at how graceful he was. She loved to watch him fly. Six years of playing Quidditch for Gryffindor had made flying second nature to him, and he could control his powerful broom with the slightest touch. She shook herself mentally. "Get a hold of yourself," she thought.

The boys noticed her and waved, and she wiggled her fingers back at them. Harry said something to Ron that Ginny couldn't hear and then turned toward her, leaning into his broom. He zoomed straight at her from across the field, gaining speed as he came steadily closer. Ginny knew she should be alarmed, but she had seen him perform this move plenty of times during Quidditch matches. She was sure he would swoop down towards her, getting ever closer to the ground, before pulling up at the last second in a perfect Wronski Feint.

As he hurtled through the air, her heart beat faster. "Calm down," she thought, "he's just trying to scare you." She stood her ground and tightened her grip on her broom. He was almost there, surely he would pull up. She held her breath; she could see his face now, smiling at her, daring her. He reached his hand out, as if reaching for the Snitch. Ginny's eyes widened and then, expertly, he pulled hard and whooshed up in front of her, soaring above her head. She shut her eyes tight as the wind whipped her ponytail around her face and didn't exhale until she heard him land in front of her.

"Did I scare you?" he asked with a note of challenge in his voice.

She tossed the hair out of her face and tried to quiet her breathing before answering in the calmest voice she could muster. "No."

"Oh c'mon, did so."

The grin on his face was so wide, she couldn't help the smile pulling at her lips. "Maybe a little."

He laughed and lowered his eyes. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

"_You_ couldn't resist _me_? Well surely, _that's_ an improvement," she said wryly.

Harry snapped his head up to meet her eyes. His cheeks flushed. "Oh, I didn't mean…"

"Coming?" she asked as she mounted her broom and kicked off before he could finish his thought, a devilish glint in her eye. If Harry thought he was going to waltz in here and flirt with her after six years of nothing, she was at least going to make him work for it.

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That afternoon, Harry lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The Weasleys were planning a family party for Ginny that evening; most of her brothers would be there, except for Charlie who couldn't get away from his work in Romania. Percy would also be absent. Although he had reconciled with the family somewhat in the past year, he still tended to avoid large Weasley gatherings, especially those that included Harry. Hermione would be arriving soon as well.

Harry felt restful. He'd been at the Burrow for a week and a half and it was finally sinking in that his life as a fully-fledged wizard was really beginning. This was his home - for now at least. The Weasleys were his family; he was loved and accepted here. He didn't want to think about Voldemort or prophecies or what he would do once school was finished next year. Those things seemed a world away.

His thoughts wandered to Ginny. Was she really going to be sixteen? But she couldn't be, she was just a little girl, a tag-along. He remembered how small and nervous she had looked the first time he'd visited the Burrow and, years later, the way she had commiserated with him over chocolate eggs in the library. He remembered her fighting with the DA and her almost annoying insistence at going with them to the Department of Mysteries. And that day by the lake last year; he had been feeling that it was time for a change, time to start living again, and she had been there. Despite her early fumbling around him, which he found embarrassingly sweet, she did seem to have a knack for knowing how to make him feel better when things got to be too much for him.

He pictured her in his mind. She was pretty, there was no doubt about that. Her body was pleasantly curvy and when she smiled her eyes lit up and he couldn't help but smile back. And her hair. Most guys would give their right arms to wrap themselves in that hair. But he dismissed all that from his mind for the moment. If he wanted a girl to lust over, there were much less risky targets out there than Ginny Weasley.

But there was something about her; he wanted to know her better. Was he attracted to her? Maybe a little. Could he seriously consider dating her even? He shook his head at that thought. She'd had such strong feelings for him in the past that he wasn't about to stir up that cauldron again.

There were too many what-ifs. What if he was only attracted to her because they were living in the same house, or because she was Ron's sister, or because he'd known her forever and she was comfortable? What if they dated and then broke up and then he had to come live at the Burrow with her next summer? Harry frowned at the questions chasing each other inside his head. Couldn't they get to know each other and still have a solid friendship even if they didn't end up together?

That was it, he thought. Being a friend with a girl was something he knew how to do. He'd been friends with Hermione for years. Being a boyfriend, on the other hand, left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. No, having romantic feelings for someone was just too much work. Besides, Hermione had told him ages ago that Ginny had gotten over her crush on him, but that she still liked him as a friend.

He wanted to get to know her, just for her, not as Ron's little sister. He was going to be there for the rest of the summer. What could it hurt?

His thoughts were interrupted by a squeal coming from downstairs. He heard Ron's footsteps coming down from his room, and when his head popped around the door, he wore a wide grin. "I think Hermione's here."

They made their way down the stairs, Ron taking them a bit faster than Harry. When they emerged into the living room, Hermione was chatting energetically about her holiday in France while Ginny exclaimed over a new pair of earrings she was wearing. They didn't even notice the boys enter, much to Ron's amusement. He turned to Harry and started waving his arms in a girly fashion.

"Harry, have you seen my new Chudley Cannons t-shirt? I got it in _France_ you know."

"Oh yes," mimicked Harry in a high voice, "it's smashing. And I just love how it clashes with your hair."

The girls stopped and turned, arms folded and lips pursed. Hermione broke into a smile.

"If I weren't Head Girl, I'd put a permanent Babbling Curse on you two, and then we'd see who would be laughing at whom," she grinned.

"You'd never put a hex on us," Ron said. "If you got rid of us, who would you nag about homework all the time?"

"Ha ha," she said, rolling her eyes as he swept her up into a hug.

But Harry stared at her in surprise. "You're Head Girl?"

Hermione's looked at him and her eyes went wide. She turned to Ron and swatted him on the arm.

"Ow!"

"You didn't tell him?" she scolded.

"You knew?" Harry said to Ron.

"I owled him last week when I found out. I told him to tell you since I knew you'd be here," Hermione said, facing Ron with a reproachful look.

"I guess I forgot," Ron shrugged sheepishly.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry." She walked over to him with a look that said don't-mind-him-he's-an-idiot and hugged him in a quick hello.

"No, it's alright, I just didn't know," he smiled. "Congratulations!"

"Yes, well done!" Ginny agreed.

"Thanks," she beamed.

"C'mon," said Ginny, "I'll show you your room. You're staying in Percy's, it's closest to mine." She turned to Ron. "I assume you boys can handle the bags?" She strode past them, pausing to swat Ron's other arm and whisper "stupid git" as she passed.

Ron rubbed his arm and scowled after them. "Sorry mate, I thought I told you."

Harry waved him off. "No worries," he said, though he felt just a little put out that Hermione hadn't owled him directly. He knew that finding out she'd been made Head Girl would have been the highlight of her summer; he would have expected her to owl him straight away. But she had thought Ron would pass it along. He shrugged it off.

"So," Hermione whispered when she and Ginny entered the room, "how's Harry getting on?" She peeked out the door to make sure the boys were out of earshot.

"Pretty well. He seems to be settling in."

"How's his mood been?"

"Mmm… steady, I'd say. It was a little touch-and-go when the _Prophet_ article came out, but he got over it."

"Oh good," Hermione breathed. "I was so worried when I saw it, I thought for sure he'd brood about it for ages." She smiled at Ginny. "I'm glad he was here. You're so good at handling him."

Ginny was about to respond that she didn't think Harry needed to be "handled" when Hermione's bags came floating into the room, followed by Ron and Harry.

"So, Miss Head Girl," Ginny said as she and Harry sat on the bed and Ron leaned against the desk, "who's Head Boy?"

Hermione took a deep breath and paused, preparing for the onslaught. "Malfoy."

Ginny gasped. Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. Ron's head looked as though it were about to explode.

"Oh, Hermione…" said Ginny. "I'm so sorry."

"Malfoy!" Ron burst out. "I knew he'd worm his way into Head Boy. What was Dumbledore thinking? The sodding…" Even though he had fantasized about it, Ron had never seriously believed that the honor of Head Boy would go to him. But he had hoped that it might fall to someone less objectionable than Draco Malfoy.

"Ron, there's steam coming out of your ears. You should really have that looked at," said Hermione, crossing her arms and waiting for the storm to subside.

"But…"

She held up her hand. "I know, I was shocked too. But I've been thinking about it, and I can handle Malfoy. The committee did choose him - why, I can't imagine - but I trust Dumbledore and anyway, I can't change it so there's no use in getting upset. It's you two who've always let him get under your skin, not me. Besides, I think it may actually be to my advantage."

Harry was speechless. He had ceased trying to figure out why Dumbledore did the things he did. He and Ron would just have to look out for Hermione as best they could, and when they couldn't, he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Ron looked incredulous. "You're mental."

"Well look, who better to keep the Slytherins in line than one of their own, and a Malfoy at that? They're all terrified of him down there, and they're certainly not going to listen to anything _I_ tell them, Head Girl or not. Malfoy wants power, and he has it absolutely in those dungeons. And he thinks the Slytherins are so far above everyone else, I'm willing to bet that he'll be happy to leave the rest of it to me. Now I just have to figure out a way to make it seem like it's his idea."

"But you'll still have to work with him all year," Ron complained. "I could hardly stomach sitting through prefect meetings with him for the past two years, I don't think I can take him lording Head Boy over me, too. I might just crack."

"Oh Ron, really," Hermione smiled patronizingly. "Do you think I'd ever let him mess with my favorite boy?"

Harry sat up and pretended to take offense. "I thought _I_ was your favorite boy."

Hermione glanced sideways at Harry. "Of course you are, but don't tell Ron."

Ginny laughed at the confused look on her brother's face.

"Listen, no more talk about Malfoy. You'll ruin Ginny's birthday." Hermione patted Ron's arm soothingly and turned to unpack her bags.

Ginny looked back and forth between Hermione and her brother. "Harry," she said casually, "would you come outside with me? Mum needs some help setting up for the party."

Harry frowned. "What about Ron?"

"He'll be along soon," she said, casting a meaningful glance at Ron while pulling Harry to his feet.

Harry paused to touch Hermione's arm. "See you later," he said. She nodded and smiled.

Ron crossed the room and closed the door behind them. He turned and leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. "Are you really okay with this?"

Hermione straightened up with a handful of shirts and looked at him. "I really am. I can handle him, Ron." But she could see that he was still fuming, so she dropped her clothes on the bed and went to stand in front of him. "Please don't make this into a big deal. Please just trust me."

"I hate him, Hermione. After all he's done to you…"

She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. "I know," she said as they stood there quietly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

Hermione smiled. "For being my favorite boy."

His face relaxed and he allowed himself a small smile. "I missed you."

She pulled away and looked up into his face. Her fingers played with the fringe on his forehead. "Your hair's longer," she said.

"Yeah, it needs a cut," he said, brushing it away.

"No, I like it," she smiled.

"Yeah?"

Hermione nodded, relieved that he seemed to be off the topic of Malfoy for the moment. "Why don't you go downstairs and help Harry. I'll be out in a bit."

Ron nodded and opened the door behind him. He started down the stairs, turning back once to look at Hermione, who was standing in the doorway, watching him go.


	4. Princesses and Dragons

Chapter 4 - Princesses and Dragons

Fairy lights twinkled in the garden and a warm breeze ruffled Ginny's hair as she sat in a comfortable wooden chair watching Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley carry platters and bowls heaped with food to the outdoor table. Harry had been given the task of weaving streamers through the fruit trees, which apparently was not as easy as it sounded as the trees ended up looking rather like large balls of fluff, while Mr. Weasley conjured Japanese lanterns to hover over the table, lighting it with a soft glow.

Ginny smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. She preferred wearing more comfortable Muggle clothes normally, but on nights like this she liked dressing up in the pretty green robe her mother had insisted she have for special occasions.

The air stirred and a deep voice drifted over her shoulder. "Someone told me I could find a princess over here?"

Ginny turned in the chair and laughed. "No princesses here, just me." She leapt up and embraced her oldest brother, Bill, with a warm hug. He was still living in London with his wife, Fleur, working for Gringotts and, more importantly, the Order. But they hadn't seen as much of him around the Burrow this summer as Ginny would have liked.

"Look at you, all grown up," Bill said, standing back and studying her. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

"No, sir," she said with a smirk.

"That's my girl," he grinned and handed her a small gift box.

"Fleur not coming?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"No, she's stuck at work, so it's just me."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said.

"Yes," Bill smirked, "I'm sure you're heartbroken."

Harry, noticing Bill and deciding to give up on the trees, walked over and stood quietly to the side, not wanting to intrude.

"Harry," smiled Bill, holding out his hand.

"Hi, Bill," said Harry, meeting his firm handshake. Bill was always friendly, but Harry was still slightly in awe of him with his rugged clothes and rebellious looks.

"How are you?" Bill asked. "I hear you've got my old room."

"Yeah, thanks, it's great."

"Mum driving you crazy yet?"

Harry laughed. "Not at all."

"Well, give it time. So, what do you think of my sister turning sixteen?" Bill teased, winking at Ginny who rolled her eyes. "You have to watch her every second you know. We take turns."

Ginny listened to their conversation with a curious fascination. Of all her brothers, Bill was the most subtle in his role of protective big brother, perhaps due to their ten-year age difference. But she valued his opinion, and his tactfulness over the years had earned him a leeway that she didn't give to Ron or the twins.

Harry had better sense than to get into the middle of their well-established sibling pecking order. He grinned deferentially. "I think the job of big brother has already been taken. Several times."

"Good answer," laughed Bill, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Thank you," said Ginny, squaring her shoulders and casting a gratified look at Harry.

Two loud _cracks_ nearby signaled the arrival of Fred and George who, upon spying Ginny, began bowing and curtseying, showering hails of "Your servants request an audience with the princess!" and "Oh princess, we bow humbly in your presence!"

"Excuse me, it's time to horsewhip the commoners," said Ginny, brushing past Harry with a sly smile. She walked over to Fred and George, grinning widely. "Sod off and give me my present."

They returned the smile, clearly ready for a sparring match. "Watch it," said Fred, "or we'll turn you into a _real_ princess and lock you in the attic with the ghoul."

She drew herself up and pointed a menacing finger at them. "Try it, and I'll turn you both into toads and _feed_ you to the ghoul."

"She would, too," Bill muttered under his breath, not taking his eyes off the scene. "You know, Harry, no matter how many big brothers she has, Ginny can take care of herself. Always has."

Harry watched her, standing tall and proud, her cheeks flushed with laughter. It was clear that her brothers adored her and only teased her because they knew she gave as good as she got.

Fred and George paused a beat before catching each other's eye, nodding slightly, and then rushed at Ginny, sweeping her off her feet in a two-sided bear hug. She shrieked in laughter and beat them with her fists in vain.

"Boys!" came the shrill cry of their mother. "Put your sister down, it's time to eat."

During dinner, Harry fell into a conversation with Ron and the twins about Quidditch while Bill and Mr. Weasley discussed the business of the Order. Harry tried to catch snatches of their discussion, but the most he could pick up was that they were still trying to determine a pattern for the seemingly random attacks that had happened recently. Other than the fact that all of the victims had been Muggle-borns, there was nothing that clearly tied them to Voldemort or his remaining Death Eaters.

After a delicious birthday cake with orange crème filling, Ginny set to opening her presents. She "oohed" and "aahed" over each gift until only Harry's was left. Reaching for it, she caught his eye and smiled as she tore off the plain brown paper. But her smile faded to open-mouthed surprise when she realized what it was.

"Oh, Harry!" she gasped. "Is this the whole set?"

"Is that Elena Bronwen?" said Hermione, craning her neck to get a better look. "Those are brilliant! Have you read them?"

"Only the first two, but I _love_ them," Ginny exclaimed. "Oh, I can't wait to read them. Thank you!"

Harry's cheeks felt warm as everyone's eyes fell on him. "Well, I heard that you liked them, so…" His voice died away. Ginny and Hermione leaned together to examine the books, but Harry didn't miss the look that passed between Mrs. Weasley and Bill, raised eyebrows and knowing smiles. He suddenly felt very self-conscious; perhaps it was too extravagant of a gesture after all. He was grateful when Mrs. Weasley spoke up and turned the attention away from him.

"Ginny, there's one more. This came by owl for you. It's from Charlie."

She handed a heavy, square box to Ginny, who pulled out a clear crystal ball on a small, carved stone pedestal. Inside the ball, a miniature dragon flapped its wings fiercely against a dark sky while a knight in full armor stood bravely on the ground, brandishing a sword and lashing out at the dragon when he wasn't dodging its fire.

Ginny smiled inwardly as she fingered the smooth surface. She wished Charlie could have been here. They had always shared a special bond that she didn't have with her other brothers. He included a short note which she read as her mother got up and started clearing away plates, and everyone else returned to their own chatter.

_Hey there Princess,_

_I'm sorry I couldn't be there today. I can't believe you're growing up so fast. Pretty soon you won't need us around to slay those dragons for you anymore. Not that you ever did. I wish all the happiness in the world for you today. _

_Love,_

_Charlie_

Ginny smiled and tucked the letter into her pocket. The party divided into smaller groups, and soon quiet conversations and distant laughter could be heard throughout the yard. When the sky had grown dark, Bill said his goodbyes and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley excused themselves to bed. Hermione conjured a fire and she, Ron, and Harry settled around it, entertained by Fred and George and the descriptions of new products they were working on.

Harry relaxed into his chair, letting the crackling of the fire lull his senses. Hermione and Ron sat to his left and he watched them through half-closed eyes, his closest friends, the people who knew him best in the world. Ron had been his hands and feet, navigating him through the wizarding world and running with him from one adventure to the next; Hermione his eyes and ears, taking in everything that he missed, even thinking for him sometimes. He couldn't imagine a life without them; they were ingrained in his very body. But there was a deeper part of him that was still unclaimed. He felt that there was a hole somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was or why it should reveal itself to him now.

Perhaps he was missing his parents. They were with him always, in the back of his mind. But maybe now that he had really felt the love of a family, now that he lived and breathed it daily, their loss had become more acute. He stared into the fire, a loneliness washing over him. Instinctively, he turned to look for Ginny. She had not joined them around the fire, and he had a sudden urge to be near her. He scanned the yard and finally found her, sitting at the table in the garden, still lit by the Japanese lanterns overhead.

He rose and made his way through the darkness toward her. Hermione watched him go, her eyes following his retreating back with curiosity.

He found Ginny resting her head in her hand, one elbow propped on the table. She was staring sleepily at the dragon globe, mesmerized by the silent movements inside. Harry watched her for a moment before breaking the silence.

"I had that job once, and let me tell you, it's not easy."

Ginny looked up as Harry sat down beside her. He was watching the knight dancing back and forth in front of the dragon, sword blazing. She smiled and remembered back to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament three years before. He had seemed so small, flying around that horrible dragon's head, dodging its fiery breath. She had been so scared for him that day.

"Oh, you've been a knight in shining armor?" she teased. "Shall I start calling you Sir Harry?"

"No…" he laughed quietly.

"I'm just having you on," she said, and they fell back into quiet contemplation.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked after a while, resting his elbow on the table and turning to face her.

"Mmm," she smiled and nodded. "Your gift was so lovely, Harry, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. I'm glad you like it."

Ginny laid head on her arm and closed her eyes. "I'm so sleepy," she said. Harry's eyes roamed over her face, so peaceful, her eyelashes fluttering with sleep, her hair slipping down over her shoulder, swaying in the slight breeze. A wistful smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Who was this girl? It was just Ginny, his mind reasoned, fun, headstrong, ordinary Ginny. So why did he feel like part of what he was missing was filled when he was near her?

"Come on, princess, I'll walk you upstairs," he said, putting his hand under her arm.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, _please_ stop calling me that."

Harry let out a short laugh as he pulled her to her feet. They gathered her presents and trudged to the house, waving goodnight to the others as they passed. When they reached her room, he stepped inside briefly to set down his load. Ginny kicked off her shoes and turned down the covers of her bed.

"Night, Gin," Harry said, pausing at the door.

She padded over to him in her bare feet, resting her hand on the doorknob. "Good night," she said, a spark lighting up her drowsy eyes. "Sir Harry."

He smiled at her cheekiness. "Get to bed," he chided and closed the door with a soft click. A short time later, his head hit his own pillow and he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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It was a sunny afternoon two days later and the Burrow was quiet. A warm light streamed through the window and onto Ginny, who sat on the couch in the living room, absorbed in her new Elena Bronwen book. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock which showed Ron and Harry as "traveling". Suddenly, a movement out the window caught her eye. Hermione had appeared out of thin air in the yard. Ginny closed her book and ran outside, grinning.

"You passed!" she said, jumping up excitedly. The boys and Hermione had been at the Apparition Testing Center all morning.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "it really wasn't that bad. But watch out, Harry's coming next."

A second later, Ginny heard a _pop_ behind her and turned to see Harry wearing a very pleased grin. "Brilliant!" she smiled. "You did it!"

Harry walked over to her. "At least I didn't splinch myself getting back here. I was afraid I'd end up in a tree," he said with relief.

"What about Ron?" Ginny asked. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "Oh no," she breathed, "he didn't…"

"No, he passed," said Harry. "He should be along any mo-" But he didn't finish his thought because at that moment, Ron landed squarely in front of Harry, knocking both him and Ginny backward onto the ground and falling unceremoniously on top of them in a heap.

"Bugger all," Ron mumbled, trying to extricate himself from the tangle of arms and legs. "Sorry."

"Congratulations, Ron," said Ginny sarcastically, pushing him off of her. "You win for best entrance."

"Alright, Ron?" Harry asked, helping him to his feet.

"Don't help or anything, Hermione," Ron said, brushing himself off and eyeing Hermione exasperatedly as she stood watching the scene.

"Oh, _now_ you want my help," she replied, marching across the yard to the house.

"Uh oh," Ginny said under her breath.

The three of them followed Hermione into the house and found her in the living room, arms crossed and a fuming look on her face. Ginny raised her eyebrows at Harry, who closed his eyes and shook his head, resigning himself to the argument that was about to ensue.

"First you try to look over my shoulder during the written exam," Hermione said acidly, advancing toward Ron. "I told you I would help you revise for it yesterday, but no, you were 'all prepared' you said."

"How was I supposed to know they were going to ask what the procedure was for Apparating to foreign locations?" Ron shot back.

"Because it was in the test booklet!" she argued. She turned to address Ginny, who unconsciously moved closer to Harry, her eyes widening.

"For the practical test, they took us alphabetically, so I went first," Hermione explained. "Then Harry went. The first time, he ended up in the hallway and we had to let him back in. But the second time he got it alright. Then Ron…" She turned back to Ron, seeming to just remember that he was standing in front of her. "I _tried_ to help you. I told you just to picture the Apparition point in your mind."

"Well, who can concentrate with you shouting directions the whole time! I _can_ do some things on my own, you know, despite what you think."

"Oh yes, you were doing a bang up job." She turned to Ginny again. "Finally, the tester told Harry and me to wait outside. And then it _still_ took half an hour before they would pass him. We went and ate lunch without him. It isn't my fault he couldn't keep his mind on something long enough to get from one side of a room to the other."

"And it isn't my fault that you think that anyone who can't do things as well as you isn't worthy to scrape the bottom of your cauldron," Ron said scathingly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously and her voice shook. "You know that's not true."

"Isn't it? Face it, Hermione, you can't stand the thought of anyone being as good as you because that would mean they didn't need you around showing them how to do everything."

Harry had listened long enough. He moved to step between them. "Ron..." he began.

"Don't bother, Harry. I'm through with this conversation," Hermione spat. She ran past them and up the stairs, followed by the distant sound of a door slamming.

"Sometimes, Harry, I just want to…" Ron squeezed his fists tight and made a throttling motion in the air. He turned and strode through the kitchen, slamming the back door.

"Wow," said Ginny, finding her voice.

"Yeah," Harry echoed.

"Was he really that bad?" Ginny asked. "I haven't seen them fight like that for ages."

Harry shrugged in bewilderment. "I didn't think so. Lots of people don't pass on their first try. But Hermione can never keep her mouth shut if she thinks that someone isn't trying their best." Harry wandered over to the window and watched Ron outside, flinging gnomes over the garden wall.

"Those gnomes sure get a workout, don't they," he said absently. "I don't know why everyone is worried about _me_ dying. Those two will kill each other way before Voldemort finds me."

Ginny gasped in horror, and Harry realized that he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"That is not funny," she said sharply.

"Sorry."

Ginny moved to stand beside him at the window, trying to shake the unwanted image of a dead Harry from her mind. She watched the gnomes soar through the air.

"I really thought they'd worked it out this time," she said with a sadness in her voice.

"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes resting on her pensive face.

"Ron and Hermione. They've been owling each other all summer. He was so excited for her to come. I thought maybe they would…"

"What do you mean 'all summer'? We always owl each other over breaks." Harry, Ron and Hermione had never lagged in their correspondence when they were away from each other. Though now that Harry thought about it, he had only received two owls from Hermione this summer, and she had owled Ron with the news of her becoming Head Girl and not him.

Ginny turned to look at him. "No, I mean _steadily._ Ron's been sending Pig with letters to her at least twice a week since term ended, and he always comes back with a reply. I've never seen Ron so happy as when he got her letters."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Really? But why?"

Ginny looked at him with a mixture of marvel and pity. Boys really were dense sometimes, though she supposed Harry had better excuses than most of why he had not noticed the recent shift in his friends' behavior.

"Harry, last year was really hard on them. It hurt so much for us to watch you going through all that you did, pushing us away. _All_ of us," she added with emphasis. "You probably didn't notice, but they became a lot closer last year. They really leaned on each other. They didn't want to let you down, they were worried about you. You were off on your own a lot of the time and they had to learn how to get on as friends without you there to act as a go-between."

Harry felt very thick. Had he really been so blinded by his own problems that he had failed to see what was brewing under his nose? "So, if they're getting along so well, why the big fight today?"

"I don't know." Ginny shook her head.

"Do you think I should talk to them?" A familiar weight of guilt settled on Harry. His friends had always been there for him; he should have sensed that something was up.

"No, they need to work this out on their own," Ginny said. Then, sensing his uneasiness, she added, "This isn't about you, Harry, it's about them."

Harry nodded and turned back to the window. "Anyway, they'll be fine, right? They always bounce back after a fight."

"I'm sure they will," she agreed. They stood in silence until a smirk lit up Ginny's face. "You ended up in the hallway?"

Harry smiled. "What, I was nervous."

Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter as she elbowed him in the side. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sod off," he chuckled, which made her laugh even harder.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It was late afternoon when Ron finally came inside. After degnoming the garden, he had taken a walk up to the paddock to clear his head and think. Why was it that they always resorted to shouting matches? They had gotten under each other's skin from the beginning, but things were different now. In the past few months, they had not only been civil to each other, they had been really, truly friends. Just the two of them, apart from Harry.

Adrift and on eggshells around Harry for much of the year, Ron had found a comfort and stability in Hermione's routine and her unswerving loyalty. She had brought him down from the brink of hysteria over homework and Quidditch and speculation about the war several times. In turn, he had given her a shoulder to cry on, and laugh on, when things got to be too overwhelming. He played chess with her and made sure she didn't stay up working too late. And when the world pressed in too closely on them and they did lash out at each other, it was brief and quickly forgiven.

Their frequent exchange of letters over the summer had only fueled the feelings that Ron had squashed down time and time again out of embarrassment, or denial, or both. But now she was here, and he wasn't going to let his stupidity get in the way of what they could have together. He was going to have to make the first move, which was a terrifying thought. But he reckoned that he should just be a man and do it and hope she didn't throw him out on his arse.

He entered the kitchen quietly, grabbing a chocolate biscuit from the jar on the counter and downing it in lieu of his missed lunch. A glance into the living room revealed Harry and Ginny playing a game of Exploding Snap, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. He stole up the stairs and knocked softly on Percy's door.

"Hermione? It's me. Can I come in?" He heard nothing, but he didn't know where else could she be. "Hermione, are you in there? Listen, we need to talk." Still nothing. He felt his blood rising again. She was not going to ignore him. Not this time. "Alright, I'm coming in. I mean it." He placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Ron?"

Ron started and spun around to the voice coming from the landing above. Hermione had just stepped out of the bathroom, her face still showing traces of the blotches she had tried to wash away.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

A flush crept across Ron's face. This was not going like he had planned. He clenched his fists and marched up the stairs, grabbing her hand. "Come on. My room. We're going to talk."

She wrenched her hand from his grip and stood on the stairs, her look of confusion replaced by a steely glare. "Don't order me around."

He closed his eyes and drew a steadying breath. "Please," he said.

Her glare softened and she nodded, sweeping up the stairs past him to the top of the house. Ron followed, and when he closed the door to his room, she turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't want to fight, Ron."

"I don't want to fight either. I was trying to find you so I could apologize," he said tightly. "I was embarrassed and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"You don't look very sorry."

Ron leaned against the closed door and hung his head, running his hands over his face and through his hair, letting them rest on the back of his neck. "You have no idea how sorry I am," he groaned.

"Those were some nasty things you said down there. I really was just trying to help at the Ministry today. I could see that you were having trouble, and trying to Apparate when you're agitated only makes it harder. I just thought…"

Ron closed the distance between them and took her hands in his, his face now full of contrition. "I know. I'm sorry."

She looked into his eyes and saw that he really meant it. Her anger slowly dissolved. "Why do we have to be so nasty with each other? Why can't we work out our problems like normal people? We were doing so well last term and now…" Her voice faltered and she dropped her eyes.

Ron lifted her chin. "We _are_ doing so well. I meant what I said in my letters. I still think we could be good together."

Hermione remembered the letter in which he had broached the subject of them being together as a couple rather than just friends. At the time, she had been surprised that he had even brought it up. It showed how comfortable they had become with each other. In her heart, she wasn't sure that the progress they had made with their friendship would so easily carry over into a romantic relationship, but she couldn't help but be curious. What would it be like? Separated from him, with only his words on parchment to connect them over the past two months, she had seen a more thoughtful, more tender Ron than she had thought possible. But now it was clear to her that she had romanticized the situation, because she had only been at the Burrow for two days before they had degenerated into the bickering, quick-tempered people they had always been with each other.

"How can you say that?" she said, full of doubt. "Writing romantic letters is one thing, but to actually be _involved_… I mean, look at us; we can't get through two days without hurting each other. I think we need more time."

"Six years isn't enough time for you?" He drew her closer with one hand and brushed her messy curls behind her ear with the other, his fingers coming to rest on her cheek.

"Well, it hasn't been six years of _this_," she whispered, letting her eyes fall closed and leaning into his hand. "Maybe we only do well when we're not face to face." She opened her eyes with a regretful smile. "That's depressing, isn't it."

"That's not true," said Ron, "It's been months since we had a fight like that one today."

"Do you really think that about me, that I think I'm better than everyone else?"

"No, no, of course I don't. You know how I get when I'm angry, I say things I don't mean."

"I just don't know, Ron," she said desperately. "Half of me wants to believe that we could make this work, and the other half feels like we're just asking for disaster."

Ron very much wanted to reassure her, to wipe the doubt from her eyes. He leaned in close to her temple and whispered, "We can do this, I know we can. I can't just be friends with you anymore, I can't stand being close to you like this and not being able to kiss you."

She could feel his warm breath on her face, clouding her reason. "But what if…"

"Hermione," he breathed, "for once in your life would you stop talking and just…"

His lips found hers and he realized with a sweet satisfaction that they were exactly as he had imagined them. He moved his hand around to the back of her neck, pressing her closer, his thumb running over her jaw line below her ear.

Finally, she relaxed into him, letting her hands slip down over his chest and around to his back. But even though he had silenced her lips, her mind was still racing. So, this was what it was like to let him invade all of her senses and thoughts, this boy who had been at her left hand with Harry on her right for so long, who she had fought with and cried with and laughed with. Was she really doing this? His lips felt dry and he tasted of chocolate. That seemed about right, Hermione thought. Rough around the edges and full of bitter sweetness.

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Harry stopped into his room to put on a sweatshirt before dinner. Hermione's door had still been closed when he passed it. It wasn't like her to sulk for such a long time, but as Ginny had said, this was between her and Ron. He didn't want to get in the middle of it.

He heard the springs of Ron's bed squeak above him and decided he might as well go up and tell him to come down and eat. Eating always made Ron feel better.

Harry climbed the stairs to Ron's room. He opened the door without a thought, but stopped abruptly at the sight in front of him. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the bed locked in a deep kiss, oblivious to the world.

"Aagghh!" Harry yelled in shock. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd imagined the scene, because they broke apart so fast they might as well have Apparated to opposite sides of the room. Harry stared from one to the other. Of the three of them, he couldn't tell who was blushing more furiously. Regaining his voice, he held up his hand in apology and said, "I'm sorry." They continued to stare at him, lost for words, so he quickly stepped back out onto the landing and closed the door. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, he hurried down to head off whoever it was. It was Ginny.

"Mum said to come up and get you lot for dinner."

"You can't go up there," Harry said, catching her.

"Why not?" she frowned, looking at his hand on her arm. He glanced up the stairs before dragging Ginny to the landing below and into his bedroom, closing the door.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Ron and Hermione are up there."

"So?"

"So, they're…" Harry waved his arms around helplessly, "doing stuff… together."

"Oh no," Ginny sighed, "are they fighting again?"

"No… not fighting…" Harry lifted his eyebrows, trying to convey his meaning.

Ginny looked at him with a blank stare. Then her whole face lit up in understanding. She covered her mouth. "Oh! Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I walked in on them." Harry screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out the mental picture.

Ginny was beside herself with delight. "How bad was it? Were they just kissing, or were they…"

Harry's eyes flew open. "Just kissing!" He shook his head and began pacing in front of Ginny. "First I find out they're writing letters all summer, and now... Of course, I knew he liked her, he's always liked her even if he was too stupid to admit it. But…I mean they're…"

Ginny chuckled at his indignation. "Oh, poor Harry," she said in mock seriousness. "Your two best friends are finally snogging and here you are, don't know what to do with yourself."

He stopped and folded his arms. "Go ahead and have a good laugh why don't you."

"Okay." She gave in and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Harry rolled his eyes and waited for her to finish. After a minute, Ginny regained her composure and strode purposefully toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Harry frowned.

"To call them for dinner," she said deliberately.

"No!" Harry stepped in front of her.

Ginny stood with her hands on her hips. "I supposed you'd like to be the one to tell mum why they're not coming down then?" Harry scowled before stepping aside.

Ginny tiptoed up the stairs to Ron's door, listening for a moment. Then she raised her fist and banged loudly on the door, yelling, "Ron! Dinner!" She dashed back down to Harry's side on the landing and they stood, waiting.

The door opened and Hermione stepped out, smoothing her hair. She came down the stairs and caught Ginny's smiling face and raised eyebrows. She paused to give Ginny a small smile, but it faded as she turned to Harry, caught short by an unreadable expression in his eyes, before she continued down the stairs to the kitchen. They followed her down and seated themselves at the table. After a moment, Ron came down as well and slipped into the seat next to Hermione. He cleared his throat nervously and glanced across the table at Harry, who was eyeing him with raised eyebrows.

"Well," said Ginny, suppressing a smile and looking between the three of them. "This should be interesting."


	5. Discoveries

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! It's so encouraging to know that you are enjoying my story. See you next week._

Chapter 5: Discoveries 

The next day was filled with rain. Dampness hung in the air and left a sticky feeling on the inhabitants of the Burrow. Harry, Ron and Hermione had maintained an uneasy silence after dinner, but this morning, after breakfast, the three of them disappeared into Ron's room for what Ginny presumed to be a heartfelt chat. She discreetly kept herself out of it, knowing that this was their time to sort out the fact that their beloved "Trio" had abruptly changed into "The Duo and That Other Guy". She settled herself at her desk with Ron's old copy of _Transfiguration Disasters and How to Avoid Them_ that Professor McGonagall had assigned for summer reading.

She turned page after page distractedly, wondering what was going on upstairs. The rain peppered her window with streams that joined into rivers and pooled on her windowsill. Her eyes fell on the photo propped on her bookshelf, the one Colin had sent for her birthday. She watched his blonde head bobbing in and out of the frame, his silly face making her smile. He had said he was thinking of her. She wondered if he was thinking of her right now. And if he was, did she want him to? Ron and Hermione had been friends for years, and now it seemed that they had finally crossed over into new territory. She abandoned her reading and picked up the picture, chasing the what-ifs through her mind.

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"Look at this," Ron exclaimed. "The Arrows are trading Chadwick to the Kestrals. I told you they would never keep him, he hasn't made a goal in their last three matches." He tossed his copy of _Quidditch Monthly_ to where Harry sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

They were not, in fact, having a heartfelt chat. Rather, the three of them were doing everything they could to avoid the pink elephant in the room. Hermione lay on her stomach on the bed, listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network while flipping through a book entitled _The Ministry of Magic: A History_ that she had retrieved from the living room bookshelf, studiously avoiding eye contact with either boy. Ron sat in a chair, leaning it back on two legs with one foot propped lazily on the edge of his desk.

Harry scanned the magazine half-heartedly, agreeing with Ron over the fate of the Arrows' Chaser until they eventually had nothing more to say on the subject and let the soft rock music of the WWN fill the silence. Finally, Harry stood up.

"Well, I suppose you two want to be alone. I'll just..." He found he was unable to come up with a suitable excuse for his departure and, realizing that it was not necessary anyway, headed for the door.

Ron and Hermione exchanged an anxious glance. Hermione shut her book and said, "You don't have to go."

"It's alright," Harry smiled with a small shake of his head. "I'll see you later." He opened the door and stepped out, not wanting to belabor the awkward moment. But he had only gone a few steps when Hermione rushed out and closed the door behind her.

"Harry..."

He paused and turned to face her. She looked so anxious, clutching the handrail and imploring him with her eyes to talk to her. It struck Harry that he rarely saw her this unnerved about anything. She was the one who had all the answers, who knew of a spell or potion or charm to get them out of any sticky situation that might arise. She was his rock. And she was crumbling right in front of him.

"We didn't plan this," she said.

He leaned his head against the wall and one side of his mouth curled into a half-smile. "Hermione, give me some credit. You don't do anything without a plan."

She chewed her lip nervously. "Well, I suppose it has been on the horizon for a while," she admitted.

Harry climbed the two steps between them so that they were at eye level. "You know what you're doing, right? Because Ron, he doesn't always think straight when it comes to you."

She searched his eyes, knowing that if anyone could understand the tumult of feelings rolling around inside her, it was him. "Do you think we're making a mistake?"

"No," he said, not taking his eyes from hers. "Do you?"

She sighed. "I just need some time to get used to the idea of us, together. It's feels strange; I don't know what I'm doing."

"And you hate that, don't you," he said knowingly. She acknowledged him with a slight frown. "Ron's a stand up guy. He'll treat you right if you let him. But you have to _let_ him."

"Yes, I know." She took a deep breath and mustered a smile.

"Alright?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her into a hug. "I love you both," he whispered.

She hugged him tighter. "We know. We love you, too."

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Harry wandered downstairs, unsure what to do with himself. He picked up a discarded pack of Exploding Snap cards and sat on the floor of the living room, his back leaned against the sofa. But he soon remembered that Solitaire Exploding Snap was a bit anticlimactic as he waited for the inevitable poof of smoke and then drew his fingers back sharply, shaking the sting out of them.

He moved on to the kitchen, intending to find a snack -- more to satisfy his boredom than his stomach. He pulled a pear out of the basket that Mrs. Weasley had picked the day before. Looking out the window, he saw her working in the garden, an Impervius Charm shielding her from the light drizzle that was still falling. It was quite a life, he thought, raising seven children and managing a wizarding household, separating themselves from pureblood society even though they had as much right to it as any Malfoy.

Mrs. Weasley always seemed to be busy, but with what he wasn't sure. Maybe it came from having so many children underfoot for so long. Harry looked around the room and tried to imagine nine noisy red heads seated around the table, from a young Bill sitting to his father's right, discussing the latest Quidditch scores, to a baby Ginny banging on her high chair tray. And presiding over it all, Molly Weasley. He wondered vaguely what she did to occupy her time when they were all away at Hogwarts.

He chewed his pear and walked slowly into the living room again. The pictures on the wall caught his eye. He had never really looked at them before, but they were a mishmash of children's drawings on yellowed and curling paper that had collected on the walls over the years. There were crayon dragons, watercolor unicorns, and inky trolls, each with the artist's name scrawled at the bottom in childish script.

He was still staring at them when the stairs creaked, and he turned to see Ginny stepping lightly down them, looking up suddenly when she realized Harry was standing there.

"Hi, what are you doing? I thought you were upstairs," she said offhandedly, pouring herself a glass of juice from the icebox.

"Just looking at these old drawings. I never really looked at them before. Fred and George really had a thing for fire, didn't they?" he smiled.

Ginny came to stand beside him, sipping her juice. "I don't know why mum hasn't taken those old things down. Look, they're hardly even moving anymore. But I suppose it's a lost cause; she can't throw anything away. This house is full of things like that."

An idea sparked in Harry's head. "Show me," he said, turning to her with a gleam in his eye.

"Show you what?"

"Show me things about the Burrow that only a Weasley would know." He was excited by the prospect of exploring the house. It was big and cluttered and full of stories. He wanted to feel a part of something, something he could wrap his hands around and focus his mind on. At the very least, it would pass the time.

Ginny chuckled at his eagerness. "Okay," she smiled. She set down her juice and looked around. "Let's see... Ah, here's a good place to start."

She walked to the large hutch in the kitchen and crouched on the floor, pointing to a red brick beside it in the wall of the massive chimney that rose up through the center of the house.

"Take that brick out," she said, and Harry stooped beside her, working the dusty block with his fingers until it came loose. Behind the brick was a small hole, but it seemed empty.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That's where mum used to hide our Christmas presents. She thought that since the kitchen was such a busy place, no one would snoop in here. But we've known about it for ages."

Harry looked incredulous. "But it's so small, how did she hide anything in there?"

"She shrunk them," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"So did you all get in here every year to see what you were getting?"

"Well, I think we all did it at least once, except for Percy. But it got boring after a while. It ruined the surprise. The only ones of us who did it consistently were..."

"Fred and George," he finished for her. She laughed and nodded.

"Would you have done? Looked at your presents?" Ginny asked.

Harry gave a wry laugh. "I suppose just knowing that I _had_ presents waiting for me would have been enough," he said dryly. "The Dursleys weren't big on giving gifts to anyone but Dudley."

Ginny pressed her lips together and frowned. She hated the Dursleys all over again. How could anyone look at this sweet, kind, loving boy and not even want to give him a sodding Christmas present?

_That's it,_ she thought determinedly. _If he wants to recreate his childhood by looking into every nook and cranny and cupboard of this place, then that's what we're going to do._

They spent the next few hours creeping and crawling through the Burrow from bottom to top. They began in the root cellar where Charlie had once hidden a family of puffskeins until they had escaped and eaten through an entire month's worth of potatoes.

The living room held a trove of photo albums and scrapbooks, which Ginny went through page by page, explaining the who, what, and where of each smiling face. Harry sat close to her, leaning over the pictures, asking questions occasionally. Ginny watched him studying the photos of the Weasleys as young children, trying to see them as through his eyes for the first time. He stopped at a picture of Ginny and Ron when they had been about two and three years old. Ron held Ginny about the waist and was bouncing her up and down as Ginny laughed, her short hair circling her round face.

Harry turned to look at Ginny, studying her face, then back to the little girl in the photo, then back to Ginny again. She felt her pulse quicken as his eyes rested on her hair, her nose, her chin, her mouth.

"See any resemblance?" she managed to squeak out in what she hoped was a normal sounding voice.

"A little," he said, "the smile is the same. And your eyes." A smile crept over her face. "There it is," he smiled back.

Next they worked their way upstairs, through stories of small children hiding beneath Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bed and Percy's failed attempts at making his bedroom door Imperturbable, to the disastrous experiments and strange noises that had issued from Fred and George's room on a daily basis. But when they reached Ginny's room, she continued up the stairs without pausing.

"What about yours?" Harry asked as they passed her door. He poked his head inside before she reached around him and pulled it shut.

"Not all secrets need to be shared today I think," she said cryptically.

"You're hiding something," he grinned.

"Not hiding," she smirked, meeting his eyes, "just not showing."

Ginny felt a rush as she raised her eyebrows at Harry, daring him to challenge her. They had been in such close proximity all morning, sitting together and brushing against each other, him hanging on her every word. She was at the center of his attention for perhaps the first time in her life, and a familiar but long forgotten ache began to rise in her chest.

_Don't do it, Ginny,_ she warned herself. _He doesn't feel that way about you, and you know it._ She squashed the feeling down and squared her shoulders.

"Off you go then," she said, grasping his arms and turning him around, pushing him up the stairs.

After hearing about the myriad of magical pets Charlie had kept in his room over the years and exploring a hidden compartment in Bill's closet where he had once hidden, of all things, a girl, they found themselves at the top floor of the house in front of the attic door, which was directly across from Ron's room.

"Ready?" Ginny asked, her hand on the doorknob.

"For what?"

"To meet the ghoul," she said ominously.

Harry started. "Is that wise?" he asked with an apprehensive look. "Ron says the ghoul won't let anyone up there."

"He won't let any of the _boys_ up there. Just me and mum."

"Well, I guess that leaves me out then, doesn't it?" Harry asked, feeling that he was stating the obvious.

"Oh no," she said with a wave of her hand. "He's only sworn to haunt any _Weasley_ man who lives at the Burrow, but you should be alright. I think. Oh, c'mon, I'll protect you," she said in a patronizing tone.

Harry looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, before reaching around her and yanking the door open himself. "Let's go, Weasley."

She ascended the dark stairway and Harry followed, closing the door behind him. When he reached the top, however, his confidence waned as he came face to face with the ugliest ghost he had ever seen. The ghoul hovered a few inches above the floor, heavy chains falling from his wrists, clanking against the floor as he moved. His opaque skin hung limply, his cheeks sunken and his eyes hollow. Long, slimy hair hung from his head, partially obscuring his face, and his chin was wet with drool leaking from his buck-toothed mouth. The air smelled faintly of dust and moldy cheese.

"Hello, Gerald," Ginny said brightly.

"_Gerald?_" Harry mouthed to himself.

"Hello, Ginevra," the ghoul moaned.

"Gerald, this is Harry," she said, gesturing beside her. Turning, she saw that he had sunken back into the shadows. She grabbed his arm and pulled him up next to her.

Harry cleared his throat. "H-Hello, Gerald."

The ghoul swept up close to Harry, looking intently into his eyes and finally resting his gaze on the top of Harry's head. Harry could smell its putrid breath but resisted the urge to back away.

"His hair is darker than the others," he droned.

"Yes," said Ginny soothingly, "he's not a Weasley, Gerald. He's a friend of mine. He's come to live at the Burrow for a while."

Gerald frowned, causing more drool to escape the corners of his mouth. "Well then…" he said thickly, looking Harry over once more. He drifted away, not finishing his thought, clanking his way into a dark corner.

Harry let out his breath and relaxed his shoulders. Ginny smiled triumphantly. "See?" she said.

Harry acknowledged her by wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell. "So, what's up here?" he asked, wandering amidst dust-covered trunks, odd-shaped boxes, and bits of forgotten furniture.

"A load of rubbish mostly," she said, pushing aside a stack of boxes with her foot. "Except for this." She stopped in front of a large trunk with the initials MP stamped in faded golden letters on the front. "It's mum's." She creaked open the lid and knelt in front of it.

"MP?" he asked.

"Molly Prewett. It was her maiden name."

On the top, folded neatly, was a white dress, cut plainly with a little bit of ribbon threaded through the bodice. A wedding robe. Ginny lifted it gingerly out of the trunk and held it on her lap, the full skirt flowing down around her. Beneath the dress, the trunk held an assortment of treasures, including, among other things, a stack of letters, a green glass jar holding dried flower petals, faded pictures, an ornate box inlaid with ivory and jade, and three baby books with chubby, smiling baby faces peeking out from the covers. Harry pointed to the top one that had "Bilius Arthur Weasley" embossed on the front and a picture of an infant Bill chewing on a soft toy.

"Is there one for you?" he asked.

"No," Ginny pouted. "Mum gave up doing them after Percy." She fingered the wedding dress in her lap. "Everything in here has a story," she said with a wistful smile. "Oh, but you don't want to hear all that," she apologized, folding the dress again and placing in back in the trunk. "It's just girly things." Harry watched her close the lid, thinking that if he had a trunk full of his mother's things, he would want to know the stories behind every bit of it.

Ginny walked to the far end of the attic and crouched on her knees in front of the half-circle window that looked down onto the front yard and rain-soaked driveway. After lifting the lids of a few boxes and finding only old potion bottles, scraps of material, and the occasional odd device that looked as though it had far outlived its usefulness, Harry joined her by the window and sat, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Thanks, Gin."

"Anytime," she smiled, patting him on the knee.

Her hand felt warm and it was gone all too quickly. Harry glanced at her sideways as she looked out the window, taking in her lightly freckled skin, the way her cheeks still held the trace of a smile, the way her hair was tucked behind her ear. She had shown him the Burrow, but more than that, she had shown him parts of herself. Her memories, her childhood, what she treasured most. He was struck again by a compulsion to know her better, to get closer to her. But how could he do that without her thinking he was being nosy, or worse, coming on to her?

They sat in silence for a while before Harry said, "It's funny, how you can spend a lot of time with a person and not really know them, isn't it? Take Neville. I was his dormmate for years before I knew about his parents. I never even thought to ask him."

"I know. That was so awful when that all came out."

"And Dean. I mean, what do I really know about him except that he likes West Ham football and that he's the only one of us who can get Seamus to stop singing those stupid Irish drinking songs at two a.m.?"

Ginny giggled. "Really?"

"And… and you." Harry didn't look at her, but continued to gaze out the window. If he had, he would have seen a look of complete shock on her face, mixed with not a little bit of hurt.

"_Me_? Harry, it's me, Ginny, the girl who used to follow you around like a lovesick puppy and embarrass you in front of your friends. We play on the same Quidditch team, you live in my house, you _saved me from the sodding Chamber of Secrets_ for Merlin's sake. You've known me for ages."

She wasn't making this easy, Harry thought. "Not really, though. I mean, yes, we've done lots together and we have mutual friends, but we've never really… just the two of us… I just thought maybe, since we're here for the rest of the summer, we could get to know each other better."

She cocked her head to one side and wondered what on earth he was going on about. But the look in his eyes was so sincere that any sarcastic comment she might have made died on her lips. Her expression softened as she considered his words. Did he really think he didn't know her? How could he not? And yet, here he was, genuinely asking for permission to step into her life. He had no idea the door had already been open for a long time.

"Okay," she said cautiously, "but it may be a bit one-sided."

"Why's that?"

Ginny met his eyes with a penetrating gaze. "Because I think I already know you pretty well," she said with a soft smile.

Harry felt his guard go up. "You do? How?"

"I have my sources," she said with a twinkle.

Harry's face relaxed and he exhaled a chuckle. "Are they downstairs snogging right now?"

"Probably," Ginny laughed. "But I also know you because I pay attention. And because I…"

Her heart caught in her throat. She had _not_ just been about to tell him that she _loved_ him, surely. Because even though it might be true, she would certainly never _tell_ him that. She had trained herself not to even think it. She dropped her eyes and cleared her throat before looking up at him again. "Well, I just do."

Harry didn't say anything but felt an odd mixture of comfort and relief. He never felt he had to prove himself to Ginny, or hold himself up to some unrealistic idea of the hero that everyone thought he was. She accepted who he was without question. She was just always there, supporting, cheering, challenging, pushing him, letting him be himself.

"And just what do you know about me?" he asked, lowering his eyes.

Ginny drew her knees up in front of her and rested her cheek on them, looking sideways at Harry. She smiled as she thought of the countless things she knew about him, times when he hadn't known she'd been watching, taking in every detail of him.

"I know that you hate it when people look at your scar, even though you're always polite about it. I know that your favorite Quidditch team is Puddlemere even though you tell Ron it's the Cannons. Your favorite candy is Pepper Imps and you hate Jelly Slugs. You always eat your meat first and vegetables last, and only jam on your toast, no butter. I know you chew on your thumbnail when you're working out a problem. And I know you've only been kissed once and that you sleep with your wand under your pillow."

She lifted her head and straightened her back, looking out the window once more. "When you get annoyed with Ron you clench your fists, but when you're annoyed with Hermione, you rub your forehead. Flying is your favorite thing to do when you want to be alone, and when you rub the back of your neck, that means you're tired."

She paused, feeling that perhaps she had revealed enough for the moment.

Harry was dumbstruck. "They told you all that?"

"No, I told you... I pay attention," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up at the look of utter shock on his face. "Well, except for the bit about being kissed once. Hermione told me that."

"Great. Remind me to thank her for that," he said ruefully. "Well, I guess I have some catching up to do."

Ginny laughed. She leaned forward on her hands and knees and looked at him playfully.

"Did I scare you?" she asked in a low voice.

"No."

"Oh c'mon, did so."

Harry looked into her dancing eyes and shook his head. "You're something else, you know?"

The grin on her face widened. "I'll take that as a compliment. Let's go and get some lunch."

She stood, brushing herself off, and Harry did the same. They wound their way through the boxes and down the stairs, emerging from the door just as Ron and Hermione were coming out of Ron's room.

"Thought we heard you up there," said Ron, a look of confusion settling on his face as he surveyed Harry. "How'd you get up there? Didn't the ghoul throw things at you and threaten to take your head off?"

"Who, Gerald?" Harry said, amused by the look on Ron's face. "No, Ginny introduced me, we got along just fine."

Ginny laughed and stepped forward to grab Hermione's hand. "Come on, let's get something to eat, I'm starving."

Hermione threw an amused glance over her shoulder at Ron and followed Ginny down the stairs.

"What were you two doing up there anyway?" Ron asked once the girls were out of earshot.

Harry shrugged. "Ginny was just showing me around." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "So," he continued, changing the subject. "Hermione."

"Yeah," said Ron, tensing slightly.

"You're really going to give it a try then?" Harry smiled.

A grin broke across Ron's face. "Yeah."

Harry gave a cautious nod. "Hurt her and I'll hex you so fast your –"

"I know," Ron interrupted, his smile fading somewhat, though not disappearing completely.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Harry punched lightly Ron in the arm. "C'mon," he said, and they headed downstairs for lunch.


	6. In the Wildflowers

_A/N: Just a brief note about plot development here. I really appreciated the reviews you all left me after the last chapter. Several of you (here and on other sites) commented on the deliberate pacing of Harry & Ginny's relationship in this story. I've always been a big believer that true love takes time. It's not quick snogs and rash declarations. It takes effort and long conversations and tension and heartache. But in the end, it makes the love all that much sweeter when you see what you've gone through to get there. So, to those of you who are enjoying their ride as much as I enjoyed writing it, I thank you. And rest assured that even though there will be many obstacles in Harry & Ginny's path soon, they will find each other in the end._

Chapter 6: In the Wildflowers

The small lake that lay beyond the Quidditch paddock was swollen after the previous day's rain. Two rowboats sat moored to the old wooden dock that Mr. Weasley had built long ago. Ron had suggested a day out, first leaning toward a picnic lunch and swimming. But when Hermione objected, saying it was a bit too chilly for a swim and that really, who wanted to lie about in wet bathing suits all afternoon, they settled on boating instead. Ron, however, who had rather been looking forward to an afternoon of Hermione in a wet bathing suit, was determined not to let the day go to waste.

As the four trudged through the paddock toward the lake, carrying a large picnic basket and blanket, Ron held Harry back and let the girls go on ahead.

"After lunch, I was thinking, would you mind if Hermione and I went in one boat? You know, kind of on our own?" Ron said in a low voice. "Only she's just here for a few more days and I'd like to… well… spend as much time with her as I can. You know," he swallowed and glanced at Harry, "alone."

Harry looked ahead at the girls, talking and laughing together as they walked. He wondered distantly what Ron might be planning to do with Hermione once he got her alone before shaking the thoughts from his head. "Sure, I figured you two would want to go together."

"You don't mind being stuck with Ginny," Ron said apologetically.

Harry looked at Ginny again. She had reached the lakeshore and was spreading the blanket on the ground, reaching to smooth out the corners while Hermione walked out on the dock to inspect the boats. "No, I don't mind," he said, not taking his eyes off her.

Ron gave him a shrewd look, but didn't comment. "Thanks, mate."

They set the basket down on the blanket, and Hermione took out her wand, levitating the sandwiches, plates, drinks, and other goodies out until they were all arranged neatly into four place settings.

When they finished eating, Ginny began to clear away the plates, but Harry laid a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Ron," said Harry, "show Hermione how good you are with those cleaning spells."

"What cleaning spells?" asked Hermione. Ron gave Harry a look of horror and shook his head furtively.

"C'mon. Watch, Hermione," Harry went on. "He taught me how to do some the other day and he's really good at them."

"It's just a _Scourgify_," said Ron dismissively.

"Well," smiled Hermione, turning to Ron, "let's see it then."

Ron fixed Harry with a stern glare while he dug out his wand and cleared his throat. He spoke the spell forcefully, waving his wand over the dirty cups and plates until they sparkled in the sunlight. Hermione picked up her plate and examined it, but could find no specks of food left.

"Hmmm," she mused, "That's quite good! Of course, it's not a very difficult spell…" she began, but caught herself when she met Harry's raised eyebrows. "But still… you've mastered it really well. Well done," she said, tweaking Ron's arm affectionately. Ron smiled and his cheeks flushed. They finished cleaning up and made their way out to the dock.

"That was nice of you," Ginny said once she and Harry were settled in their boat. Ron and Hermione had already pushed off from the shore, Ron rowing steadily toward the far side of the lake.

"What was?" asked Harry, fiddling with the oars.

"Talking Ron up to Hermione like that."

"Yeah, well, I have a feeling he's going to need all the help he can get," he replied, still struggling with the oars. "Why can't I get this in here?" he said exasperatedly, trying to force the end of the oar through the small ring on the side of the boat.

"Here, I can do it. Those are always real buggers to get in." She leaned forward, her hair brushing his hand as she bent over the ring and slid the oar in.

They sat again and Harry pulled on the oars, but the boat spun sideways and got bogged down in the bulrushes. He pressed his lips together in an embarrassed smile and looked around.

"I guess this isn't as easy as it looks."

Ginny chuckled. "Do you want me to..."

"Yeah, maybe you'd better..."

They crawled gingerly past each other, grasping arms for a brief moment to steady themselves as the boat rocked back and forth. Once they were seated, Ginny steered them from the shore and soon they were floating lazily around the edge of the lake. The oars slapped the water, sending ripples through the surface. They watched Ron and Hermione pull their boat up onto the opposite shore. Hermione turned and seemed to be waiting for them to catch up until Ron took her hand and led her away into the trees. With one more glance over her shoulder, they were gone.

"So, what do you think?" Ginny asked. "About Ron and Hermione, I mean."

Harry shrugged. "Anything that makes them fight less is fine by me."

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "Really?"

"Why?"

"You just seemed a little... out of sorts the other day, when you caught them together."

"Well, it _was_ a bit of a shock. But, you know, if this is what they want, who am I to say anything?"

"Mmm," Ginny replied. She noticed that he hadn't quite answered her question.

A few strokes of the oars carried the boat farther along the shore, a warm breeze rustling the leaves of the branches that dipped toward the water's edge. A dragonfly hovered just beyond Harry's reach as he tried to snatch it out of the air.

Ginny began to hum softly, the musical rhythms filtering into Harry's consciousness. It was a tune he recognized from somewhere.

"What's that song?" he asked.

"Scarborough Fair. It's an old wizarding song, one of my favorites."

"I've heard that... when I was young, I think. I thought it was a Muggle song."

"Is it?" Ginny furrowed her brow. "But the song is about a witch and a wizard. Haven't you ever noticed that he is asking her to do things that would be impossible without magic?"

Harry shook his head. "I never paid attention to the words."

Ginny began to sing, her voice warm and clear.

_Are you going to Scarborough Fair?_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Remember me to one who lives there_

_For once she was a true love of mine_

_Tell her to make me a cambric shirt_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_Without no seam nor fine needle work_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

_Have her wash it in yonder dry well_

_Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme_

_where water ne'er sprung nor drop of rain fell_

_And then she'll be a true love of mine_

She continued singing and Harry closed his eyes, letting the sound of her voice lull him. When the last tones died away, he asked, "Why does it keep saying 'parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme'?"

"It's an old potion. Not a love potion exactly… When the herbs are brewed together into a tea, it enhances feelings of love that are already there. Parsley takes away bitterness, sage for strength, rosemary for faithfulness, thyme for courage. In medieval times it was traditional for a witch and wizard to drink it together at their wedding, but I don't think people do that anymore."

"How do you know all that?" Harry asked with a bemused grin.

"Mum used to sing it to me when I was little. She told me about it."

They reached a break in the trees and Ginny stopped rowing, looking out over a field of flowers that emerged into view. A shadow passed over her face and she seemed lost in thought.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

She continued to stare for a moment before answering. "See that field over there? During the summer after my first year at Hogwarts, after the… you know… I used to sneak over there and just lie in the wildflowers. I'd stare at the sky for hours."

Harry stared at the field where yellow and blue flowers swayed in the breeze. He had never heard Ginny talk about her experience in the Chamber of Secrets. He didn't want to ask her to relive it now, but was curious to have yet another glimpse into her.

"Can we go there?"

She looked startled for a moment, but then nodded. "Sure."

She steered toward shore and they scrambled onto the bank, pulling the boat behind them. Ginny waded into the knee-high flowers, bending to skim her fingertips over their tops. Harry followed her trail, crunching the broken stems beneath his feet until the flowers gave way to a grassy clearing. Ginny sunk onto the soft ground, and he dropped down beside her.

"Great spot," he said.

"I know," she smiled. She held up some flowers she had picked and began pulling off the petals. "Harry, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why now?"

"Why now what?"

She pulled off another petal and let it float to the ground. "Why this sudden interest in getting to know me?"

Harry hesitated, pulling at some grass. "Is it sudden?"

"Well… seems sudden to me. We've known each other for years and you've never shown any interest in getting to know me before, other than me being Ron's sister, I mean."

"I don't know. We've been through some pretty intense things together." She nodded. "But it's different, being here and seeing you at home. I feel like I'm seeing what you're really like for the first time, and I realized that I don't know you that well at all."

"But you've been here before."

"Yeah, I guess. But I'm not just here for a week or two, I live here now." He paused. "I'm sorry, is this too awkward for you?"

"Why would it be awkward?"

"Well… I know you used to… um… fancy me a little."

Ginny gave a short laugh. "Yeah, you could say that."

"But you're over that now, right?"

Ginny didn't think that giving up on Harry ever noticing her was exactly the same as being "over" him, but she thought better of correcting him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrogate you. I just wanted to be sure of what was going on here."

"Look Gin, I have no ulterior motives, honest. I just thought it'd be nice to spend some time with you."

"Okay. Thanks. This is nice. A bit strange… but nice."

"So," Harry said, lying back and propping an arm behind his head, "tell me something I don't know about you."

Ginny smiled and looked sideways before turning back to her flowers. "Well, tell me what you _do_ know about me first."

"Oh. Hmmm, let's see." He thought for a moment. "I know you like waffles and strawberries on your birthday. And that you've had that pink princess plate since you were three."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, obviously. Anything you didn't learn in the past week?"

Harry's brow creased, and he brought his free hand to his mouth, chewing on his thumbnail. "I know you dated Michael Corner when you were in third year. Or was it fourth year?"

"Both."

"And that he started seeing Cho Chang after you dumped him."

"Yes, I suppose you would have noticed that," Ginny teased. Harry smirked.

"I know how good you are at Quidditch, of course." Unlike Hermione, Ginny could happily discuss Quidditch with Ron and Harry for hours on end, and having been teammates for a year now, it was the one area in which Harry really felt they had a lot in common. "Alicia was at one of the matches at the end of last year and told me afterwards she thought you'd really improved your passing skills."

"Really? Well, Katie ran me through enough drills, it'd be pretty appalling if I hadn't improved by now. Though now that you've been made captain, I'm sure you won't work me nearly as hard, will you?" she kidded.

Harry laughed. "Don't bet on it, Weasley."

They chatted about the Gryffindor team and Harry's need to find a new Chaser this year to replace their previous captain, Katie Bell, who had just left Hogwarts. When they had exhausted the topic, they fell into a comfortable silence.

After a minute, Ginny recalled what they had been talking about. "So, that's it? Michael Corner and Quidditch?"

"Pathetic, I know," Harry smiled, squinting against the sun. He rolled over onto his stomach and began playing with the blades of grass under his fingertips. "Who's your favorite brother?"

"Oh no…" Ginny laughed and shook her head. "I don't know if I should say anything that could be used against me later on."

"I just wondered. I can't even imagine what it must have been like to grow up in such a big family. Do you have different relationships with each of them? I know you're close to Ron."

"Well, Ron and I have always been close because of our ages, but let's face it, he can be a real prat sometimes." They both chuckled. "I love them all, they're each very unique, but Charlie is my favorite."

"Why Charlie?"

Ginny didn't say anything right away. Harry looked up at her and saw that she wore a thoughtful expression, as if considering how much to tell him. Finally, she said, "Mum has always said that she thinks I have Legilicor abilities."

"Legilicor? You mean like Legilimency?" Harry looked at her in alarm. "Can you read people's minds?"

"No," she smiled. "A Legilicor can't read minds, but they can sense strong feelings and emotions in other people. It means 'reading the heart.' I've felt it sometimes, with people I'm close to. I suppose it's a type of Divination, so it can be imprecise. But Charlie has it too, though mum says it's not as strong in men. He's a lot older than me, but I remember him being here when I was young and on summer holidays. He never teased me as much as the other boys. I think he could sense how I was feeling and was always a bit more kind toward me. He used to let me look at all his dragon books. I loved to watch them flying around.

"Once when I was five or six, I remember I was in the living room looking at one of his books that was pretty frightening, pictures of dragons setting villages on fire and people running and screaming. Fred and George were there and they could see that I was getting scared. They started telling me these stories about how dragons could come to the house at any time and that they would come into my bedroom and eat me up. Well, I tried to be so brave, because you know Fred and George, if you give them an inch they'll take a mile, but inside I was really in a panic. Then all of a sudden, Charlie came bounding down the stairs from his room, and when he saw the twins he grabbed them by their necks and threw them out the door into the garden." She laughed at the memory while Harry listened, transfixed.

"He came and put his arm around me and said he was up in his room when he felt that I was really scared, like I needed to be protected from something."

"Your knight in shining armor," said Harry, thinking of the dragon globe Charlie had given her.

Ginny smiled and shrugged. "I was little; I was at home all the time. My brothers were my whole world."

"But not now?"

Ginny waved him off and shook her head. "No. I don't really see them much anymore, any of them… except Ron, of course. They all have their own lives now." She shifted so that she was also lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows beside him. "So what about you? Tell me something from when you were little."

"I thought you already knew all about me."

"There must be something."

Harry was still working on shutting out the memories of his life with the Dursleys and was fairly sure he didn't want to dredge them up again just now. "I can't think of anything." He gazed off into the trees for a moment before turning to her. "So, can you tell what I'm feeling right now?"

"Oh, um," Ginny shifted uneasily. "I suppose I could try. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm curious."

She regarded him for a instant before agreeing. "Okay, sit up then." She sat up and crossed her legs in front of her. Harry brushed the grass from his shirt and did the same, resting his elbows on his knees. Ginny looked into his eyes, trying to shut out everything but him. "Well… I think you're happy, but also a bit nervous. Oh dear, am I making you nervous?"

"A little," he smiled. "What else?"

She concentrated harder. As she focused on him, a feeling came to her that surprised her and made her heart ache.

"You feel lonely," she said in a quiet voice, as much to herself as to him.

His face betrayed a flicker of surprise, but he covered it and lowered his eyes, breaking their connection. "Anything else?"

"No," said Ginny, somewhat disappointed, though she didn't know why. Maybe she had expected him to have stronger feelings directed towards her, feelings of desire or attraction. But she felt none of that from him. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Harry, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going, cast about desperately for something to say. "Aha! Bat Bogey Hexes!"

"What?" said Ginny, startled out of her thoughts, her hand going instinctively to her nose.

"You cast a nasty Bat Bogey Hex. You even did one on Malfoy, remember?"

"Oh," Ginny chuckled. "Yes alright, guilty as charged."

"C'mon," said Harry, jumping up, "let's walk some more." He held out his hand and pulled her up. "Bet you can't beat me to that tree over there," he said, pointing to a large oak some distance away.

Her eyes lit up with the challenge. She feigned a look of surprise and pointed over Harry's shoulder. "Hey look, a hippogriff!"

Harry turned for a fraction of a second before Ginny took off across the field toward the tree, her hair streaming out behind her.

"That's cheap, Weasley!" Harry called, tearing after her.

She laughed. "I know, but it worked!"

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Hermione stood in front of the Weasley's large fireplace a few days later, her bags packed at her feet. She hugged Ginny.

"Bye, see you in a couple of weeks. It was so great to be here," she said, squeezing Ginny's hands. "Thank you."

"Bye," said Ginny, "we'll look for you in Diagon Alley when we go to buy our things."

Hermione turned to Harry. "Okay, bye." She kissed him on the cheek. "We didn't really get to spend much time together did we?" she apologized.

"It's okay," he assured her, "we'll catch up at school."

"Yes, let's," she said and hugged him hurriedly.

She turned lastly to Ron. They stared at each other, putting off the inevitable until the last possible moment. Ron fidgeted until Hermione reached up and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered, "I'll miss you."

"Me, too."

"It's only two weeks."

"I know."

She pulled away, her eyes bright, and gave him a quick peck on the lips before grabbing her bags. With a last smile at everyone, she closed her eyes and was gone.

Ron stared at the place she had Disapparated from, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Harry and Ginny exchanged a pitying look.

"C'mon, Ron, let's go flying," said Harry.

Ron gave a half-smile. "Yeah, alright."


	7. The Real Me

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! You are the icing on the cake._ _Also, I am planning to print out my novel in book form eventually, so if you ever see any grammatical errors or typos, I'd be so grateful if you'd let me know. Thanks!_

Chapter 7 - The Real Me

"Mum!"

Ginny slammed the cupboard door and opened another, rummaging through jars of pickled herring and canned vegetables.

"Where is that blasted potion?" she muttered to herself. "If she forgot to go to the chemist I swear I'll… MUM!"

Harry and Ron had just finished lunch when Ginny stormed down from her room; they watched her tirade with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Must be that time of the…"

Ginny rounded on him, shooting him a murderous glare. "Don't say it. Don't you dare," she seethed.

Ron considered for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Month," he said.

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Ginny's mood over the past day or two had grown steadily more sour, making Harry wonder if he had done something to upset her. It had never occurred to him that it might be because she was… well…

Ginny's face flushed red, and her eyes darted to Harry, then back to Ron. She clenched her fists.

"Ah, ah, Gin, no magic out of school," Ron taunted, waving his finger at her.

"Oh yeah? Magic this," she said as she came up behind his chair and put him in a full headlock.

"Hey!" Ron bellowed, "Geroff!"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley reached the kitchen in time to see her children locked in a mass of flailing arms and flying red hair. "Let go of him! Why are you yelling?"

"I can't find my potion; I thought you were going to get some more!"

"I did get it, it's right here." Mrs. Weasley bustled over to a shopping bag on the counter and pulled out a box of small, glass vials filled with green liquid.

"Finally," Ginny breathed and made to grab the box. But her mother put a hand out and stopped her. Ginny looked up at her mother's raised eyebrows. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Thanks."

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley nodded and gave her the box. When Ginny disappeared up the stairs, she turned and began unloading the rest of the shopping bag, tutting, "That girl… I don't know… be the death of me yet…"

Harry was still wide-eyed with shock. He had seen Ginny determined, fired up, even brazen, but never quite so…

"Is she always like that?"

"Only if she doesn't take that potion," Ron chuckled. "But blimey, when she doesn't, I can really get her going." He picked up his wand and banished his plate and cup to the sink, narrowly missing his mother's head in the process.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley warned, plucking the dishes out of the air and setting them down gently on the counter. "Well, she's got her potion now, and she'll be right as rain in a bit. You two just steer clear until then." She arched an eyebrow and pointed a finger at each of them in turn before leaving the room.

Just then a brown barn owl swooped into the kitchen through the open window and landed on the table, bearing three letters addressed to Ron, Harry, and Ginny, each with a Hogwarts seal. Ron tore open his letter.

"Book lists." Ron perused his list and then looked over Harry's. "I still can't believe you're taking Advanced Potions. Even if I had scraped a high enough mark on my OWL, I'm not sure I would have signed up for another two years with that wanker."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but I didn't have much choice, did I? McGonagall said I had to have Potions if I wanted to train for Auror. Anyway, this is the last year and then I'll be free of Snape forever." Harry closed his eyes and groaned, "I can hardly wait." He turned to look at Ron. "So, any idea what you want to do next year?"

With Ron out of Advanced Potions, it was unlikely that he would be admitted into Auror training, though not impossible. He had chosen instead to take History of Magic, mainly because Hermione was taking it as well, and he knew he could at least count on her help even if he slept through most of the lessons.

"I dunno, probably go work at the Ministry somewhere. I was thinking the Department of Magical Games and Sports might be interesting. Could get in good with the Quidditch League, yeah?"

Harry nodded. He thought if there was actually a job that could make use of Ron's obsession with Quidditch, it wasn't such a bad idea. At times, Harry dreamed of what it might be like to play Quidditch professionally. He was a good Seeker, one of the best if he allowed himself to admit it, but he knew that his future lay down a different path. It was not a path of his own choosing, but the course that had been laid out for him nonetheless.

His eyes glazed over as he remembered the weight of the prophecy on his shoulders. During the past year, Dumbledore had kept him informed of the Order of the Phoenix's actions and progress. He had asked to be more directly involved, itching to do something to avenge Sirius' death. But Dumbledore had felt that there was little he could do while still at school and assured him that the Order would support and defend him if and when the time came. Instead, he encouraged Harry to continue training his fellow students and recruiting as many allies as possible toward their cause.

He had told Ron and Hermione, and eventually Ginny, about the prophecy. They had been shocked and anxious, but swore their allegiance to him unconditionally. It was some relief to him that they knew, but the burden of being the one destined to kill or be killed still weighed heavily on him.

He had almost been able to forget about it all since he'd been at the Burrow. How simple it seemed, in the hazy summer days, just to be a normal teenager surrounded by friends and family.

_If you can call having your picture plastered in the paper and being recognized by total strangers "normal",_ he thought

A tension began to settle in his neck and shoulders as he looked over the supplies he would need for his final year. Only ten more days and then it was back… back to real life. He was looking forward to seeing his housemates again, to eating in the Great Hall and captaining his Quidditch team. But right now, it was just peaceful here…

"I'm going to owl Hermione and see when she can come to Diagon Alley," said Ron, breaking into Harry's thoughts as he disappeared up the stairs.

Harry sighed and rolled up his book list. He spied Ginny's envelope still on the table and after a moment's hesitation, grabbed it and turned toward the stairs.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny lay on her bed, breathing deeply the warm air that was drifting in her window. The pain in her abdomen had already subsided, and she was feeling considerably better. Better, that is, except for the fact that she had made a complete fool out of herself in front of Harry. She knew better than to let Ron push her buttons before she took her potion on a day like this.

_Well,_ she thought, _he wanted to get to know me. So, here I am, warts and all. It couldn't get any more embarrassing than that. _

She took some comfort in this thought as she reached to her bookshelf and pulled out the next Elena Bronwen book, _A Portal to the Edge. _A quiet afternoon of reading would be just the thing today. She snuggled down into her pillow and opened the book. Unfortunately, someone seemed to have a different idea because there came a soft but persistent knocking on her door.

"What?" she grumbled impatiently.

Harry peeked his head around the door. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Ginny instantly regretted her gruffness and a flush crept up her face. "Fine, why?"

"Well, I just… before…"

She saw him eyeing the empty vial on her desk. "Oh No, I took the potion; I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," she exhaled. She sat up and put her finger in the book to hold her place. "Come to see if I'm still being mental?"

Harry smiled. "No, though that was pretty impressive. Just came to bring you this." He held out the envelope.

"What's this?"

"Book lists. Just came."

Ginny opened the envelope as Harry pulled her desk chair over to the bed and turned it around so he could straddle it. He was restless and looked around the room for something to do. He picked up one of the green vials from the open box on the bookshelf and read the label. _Menstrus Pain Reliever Potion, now with added Mood Enhancer!_ Ginny reached out and took it from him, giving him an even look and replacing it in the box.

"Ron said he can really get you going when you haven't taken that potion."

"Did he?" she replied coolly, looking over her list.

"I've never seen you like that before."

"Well, now you have."

"So, there's something else I know about you," he smirked.

She looked up from the parchment and cocked an eyebrow. "More than you bargained for, I'm sure."

He chuckled and rested his chin on the back of the chair. "Hermione doesn't get like that," he said thoughtfully.

"Do you think all girls are the same then?" she asked, amused.

He smiled and lowered his eyes. "I think that what I know about girls could fit inside a Snitch and still have room left over."

Ginny giggled. "I can't argue with that." She smiled for a moment before adding, "Hermione gets sulky."

Harry frowned. "How can you tell the difference between that and her regular sulking?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and reached out to swat him on the arm. "Been best friends with the girl for six years and you don't even know when she's on the rag," she mumbled.

Harry looked baffled. "Is that something guys are supposed to know?"

Ginny smiled at him sweetly. "Only the smart ones."

"Oh, that's nice," he said sarcastically. Changing the subject, he asked, "So, what did you decide to take for NEWTs?"

"Same as you, I think."

"Really? Even Potions?"

Ginny looked up from her list and smiled. "Yes, even Potions. I got an E on my OWL. Potions is an important subject. I'm not going to let some git of a professor stop me from learning what I can. Besides, he's not nearly so awful to my class as he is to yours. Even if I am a Weasley."

"I can't even imagine hearing the words 'Snape' and 'not so awful' in the same sentence," Harry muttered. Ginny gave a short laugh. "So," Harry continued, "do you want to be an Auror? That's the course I'm taking."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "No. Fighting the forces of evil alongside _you_ is one thing, but I don't think I'd like doing it on a daily basis."

Harry stared at her. Suddenly, their easy conversation took an abrupt turn and something flared inside him.

"And you think I would? You think I'll _enjoy_ having to chase down those pieces of filth for the rest of my life?" It was all well and good for her to choose whatever path she liked. Didn't she know that he didn't have a choice?

Ginny started at his sudden change of tone. She furrowed her brow and met his eyes. "No, I don't think you'll enjoy it. But Harry, you would never be content to sit on the sidelines while someone else took up the fight against Vol-" she stopped and took a deep breath, "Voldemort. I know that."

She was taken aback by the way his face had suddenly lost all of its humor, and her own face creased with concern. She laid aside the parchment and sat up on the edge of the bed, facing him. "But just because the rest of us aren't Aurors doesn't mean we wouldn't fight right beside you again if you needed us. You know we would. But that's not our calling," she said softly, "it's yours."

His eyes softened as he held her gaze. "Sometimes, I wish it wasn't."

Ginny reached up to slide her fingers through his hair. "I know," she whispered.

He let his eyes fall closed and rested his head on his arm, letting her touch soothe the tenseness in his neck. He wasn't sure why he had come up to Ginny's room in the first place, but now he knew. It was for this… this comfort of someone who knew him, who could share this burden.

"Have you heard from Dumbledore this summer?" she asked, letting her hand drop.

Harry shook his head and stood up, pacing the room. "I talked to your dad a bit last night, but he said they aren't any closer to finding a pattern to the attacks. I can't stand all this waiting around." Ginny watched him walking in circles, clenching his hands in his already messy hair. "How can we fight against something so random? Sometimes I wish that something big would happen, just so we would know what Voldemort is planning. And then I feel guilty for wishing that, because it will probably mean a lot of dead Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

"Has your scar hurt at all?"

"Little twinges now and then, but nothing like before. It's like he's just doing this for sport, killing people here and there, waiting until his next big plan is ready. I discussed that possibility with Dumbledore last year when he took over my Occlumency lessons. He thought that maybe I was blocking my mind well enough that I wasn't feeling Voldemort as strongly anymore. But I don't think that's it. I just get this feeling that he's waiting…" He stopped and gave a bitter laugh. "Or maybe he's just trying to drive me insane."

Ginny sat quietly and listened. She hadn't heard Harry talk like this since he came to the Burrow, and she wanted him to get it all out. He came over and sat next to her on the bed, resting his head in his hands.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't even be telling you this," he said.

"Why?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how much Dumbledore wants me to share. Besides, this is my stuff to deal with; I don't want to drag you into it."

"Harry, look at me." Harry looked up and saw a fierce determination in Ginny's eyes. She reached out and took his hand. "We are not going to let you go through this alone. Not me, or Ron, or Hermione, or anyone else who calls themselves your friend. This war affects all of us. We were there with you when it started and we will never leave you. So go ahead and drag us into it. Wild hippogriffs couldn't keep us away."

Harry held her eyes for a moment and then, on impulse, reached out and drew her into a tight hug. He buried his face in her hair and whispered, "You don't know how good it feels to hear you say that… just to have someone who understands. If I ever lost any of you I…"

"Don't say that," she whispered, tightening her grip. "We're not going anywhere."

They held each other for a few seconds more until the awkwardness of their position set in and they became painfully aware of how close their bodies were. Harry pulled away with a slightly embarrassed flush in his cheeks, and Ginny avoided his eyes as she struggled to keep her pulse under control.

He moved away from her and stood up, clearing his throat. He was torn between leaving and finding an excuse to stay.

"Well, thanks for talking," he said with a nervous smile.

She nodded. "Thanks for bringing me my letter."

He paused, then took a deep breath and said, "Right."

When the door shut behind him, Ginny groaned and fell back onto her bed.

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"Harry! Are you ready?"

Mrs. Weasley stood at the foot of the stairs, checking her large shoulder bag to make sure she had everything for their day in Diagon Alley. Ron and Ginny were already waiting by the fireplace.

Harry came down the stairs, his money bag jingling in his hands, and looked cautiously around at the Weasleys.

"Oh good," said Mrs. Weasley. "Let's be off, we have a full day ahead."

But Harry paused, his mouth working silently before he stammered out, "I don't think I'm going to go with you today. If… if that's alright," he added, noting Mrs. Weasley's surprise.

"What do you mean you're not going?" asked Ron.

"I was just in Diagon Alley a couple weeks ago, and I was thinking it might be nice just to spend the day by myself. And, you know, I'd rather not be…" He looked down at the bag in his hands.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a gentle voice.

He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that people will recognize me, like that bloke in Flourish and Blotts last time. And there may be reporters lurking about; they'll know that all the students will be out buying their school supplies this week. What Dumbledore said about the Press… I just don't want to deal with it today, I guess." He avoided Ron's and Ginny's eyes, feeling utterly foolish.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his Hogwarts book list. "I have enough money for my books and things from when I went to Gringotts before. Would you mind buying them for me? If it's not too much trouble…" He held out the list and his money bag to Mrs. Weasley, who took them with a kindly smile.

"Of course I will, dear. I think that's a wise decision. No use giving them an excuse to splash your picture around the paper again. You just have a nice day to yourself." She patted his shoulder and turned toward the fireplace.

Ron wore a disappointed frown. "Alright, I guess so," he said begrudgingly. "I'll give you a full report on anything new at Quality Quidditch when we get back. Oh, and don't start that essay for Flitwick until later, I want to work on it together."

Harry nodded. "Ok. Sorry…"

Ron waved him away and reached for the Floo powder. "That's ok, more Florean Fortescue's for me," he smiled. Harry chuckled.

Ginny, who had been contemplating Harry silently, caught his eye and smiled. It was a sympathetic smile and suddenly, he didn't feel so foolish. She raised her hand in a small wave and he smiled in return before she turned and stepped into the green flames.

Harry stood in the quiet house, listening to the whir of the grandfather clock as the hands moved from "Home" to "Traveling". He breathed in the silence, broken only by the creaking of pipes and the faint clunking of Gerald's chains high above.

He turned and raced up to his room, grabbed his Firebolt from the corner, and climbed onto the narrow windowsill. The trees beckoned him with their leaves swaying in the soft breeze. He straddled his broom and leaned forward, allowing himself to freefall for a second before pulling up and zooming off over the paddock.

Several hours later, Harry had finished a late lunch and was carrying his broom back upstairs when he paused outside Ginny's room. Her door was open, the curtains fluttering at the window. He leaned against the doorjamb, wondering what secrets she had hidden in there, because everyone hid secrets in their bedroom, didn't they? She hadn't included her room on the tour of the Burrow, and a curiosity rose in him. Not that he would go poking about in drawers or under her bed, because that would just be wrong. He just wanted to look, to glimpse into her inner sanctuary.

He stepped onto the braided rug in the middle of the room. It was an ordinary room, small and cozy, and its scent reminded him of Ginny. His eyes traveled to her desk, where he imagined her scribbling an owl post. Who would she be writing to? Hermione, perhaps, or one of her dormmates. He didn't really know how close she was to any of the others in her year.

His gaze traveled to her bed tucked along the far wall, where they had sat together just a week before. The awkwardness of the hug they had shared seemed silly now, but he reminded himself that he would do well not to get too comfortable with Ginny. He was pleased with how their friendship had grown over the past few weeks, and was surprised at how close he felt to her. But if he wanted to remain friends, he had to be careful not to let… other things… get in the way.

He wandered over to her dresser where a few stray hair bands lay next to a carved wooden box. On the lid was a faded picture of a man and woman, dressed in ornate robes, dancing an intricate minuet. The woman paused to wink at Harry before returning to her gentleman. His hand reached out to touch the box when a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"She's quite right you know. You are adorable in a scruffy sort of way."

Harry started and whipped his head around, sure he had been caught. But by whom? There was no one there.

"Although you look like you might clean up nicely."

Harry turned back around and realized with relief that it was only the mirror over the dresser which had spoken. Glancing at his disheveled reflection, he ran a hand through is windblown hair and hastily tucked in his t-shirt, sweaty from his morning of flying.

"It will take more than that, I'm afraid," the mirror sighed.

Harry grimaced at his image and backed away, turning his attention to the bookshelf across the room. He clasped his hands behind his back, resisting the temptation to touch anything, and leaned in to look at the books, figurines, and much-loved stuffed animals.

A movement caught the corner of his eye. He looked to see a photograph propped at the end of the middle shelf. It was a picture of the Gryffindor fifth years. Well, sixth years now, he supposed, as he picked it up to get a closer look, forgetting his resolve not to touch anything. He didn't know all of their names, but recognized Sean Jacobs, who had played Chaser with Ginny and Katie for Gryffindor during the past year.

He smiled at the image of Ginny, who was smiling back and waving at him. And… who was that sneaking in the side? Oh yes, Colin. He must have taken the picture. Harry smirked. He knew Colin, of course, and Colin wasn't likely to let him forget it. But if he was honest, he had to admit that Colin was an alright sort of bloke. A bit overenthusiastic maybe, but a decent guy. He wasn't nearly so annoying now as when he first came to Hogwarts. Ginny got on well with him; he had seen them often together, revising or chatting in the common room.

He turned the picture over and was momentarily confused by the words he saw there.

_Happy Birthday, Ginny! Love, Colin_

Love, Colin? Colin _Creevey_? He didn't recall her opening a gift from Colin at her party; she must have gotten it separately. He frowned and looked back at the front, noticing for the first time that when Colin's head popped into the frame, Ginny laughed and leaned her head toward him a bit. He felt suddenly self-conscious, like he had invaded her privacy, and replaced the photo on the shelf. He shook his head and berated himself for the feelings of jealousy that he couldn't account for.

_Hermione always signs her letters "Love from Hermione,"_ he reasoned. _It doesn't mean anything. Just that they're friends._

He took one more glance around before hastily grabbing his broom and heading up to his room.

After a warm shower, he dug out his Charms text and looked over the essay they were to hand in to Professor Flitwick at the first class of the new term. He knew that Ron wanted to work on it together, but figured that he might as well read up on "Deciphering the 12 Uses of Dragon's Blood." That way, at least one of them would be familiar with the material. Not that he would probably ever have a reason to use real dragon's blood, rare and expensive as it was.

He was halfway through the chapter when he heard a clattering downstairs. He set aside his book and descended the stairs to see Ginny and Mrs. Weasley brushing themselves off, having just emerged from the Floo.

"Hello, Harry," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes, thanks."

She lifted the bulging canvas bag at her feet, charmed to be light as a feather, and carried it over to the stairs. "I've got everything you need here… books, parchment, quills. Oh, and," she lowered her voice, "I picked up some other things I thought you might need as well." She opened the bag to reveal packages of underpants and socks.

Harry blushed and grinned. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled and patted him on the back. "Well, I'll just send these up to your room and then I'll whip up something for tea. Oh, I almost forgot…" she rummaged in her cloak and pulled out Harry's money bag, handing it back to him. It was considerably lighter.

She bustled up the stairs as Harry continued down and joined Ginny on the couch. She had taken off her shoes and was rubbing her feet.

"How was Diagon Alley?"

"Oh, Harry, you should have come! Everyone was there; we saw Seamus and Dean, and Neville's Gran let him come shopping by himself this year. He was so sorry he missed you."

"Where's Ron?"

"He stayed to have dinner with Hermione."

Harry looked disappointed. "Hermione was there, too?"

"Of course, we told her to meet us there. She wished you were there too, but she said it was probably best that you stayed here. We did see a few photographers prowling around Flourish and Blotts. Hermione reckoned they were waiting to see if you would show up. They tried to ask us if we'd seen you, but she spoke right up and said you weren't with us today and that she didn't know where you were. You should make her your personal spokeswoman, she handled those photographers like nobody's business."

"Can't believe I missed everyone," he grumbled. "But I suppose it was worth not having to dodge reporters all day." Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

_He's tired,_ Ginny thought.

He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Ginny stole glances at him until Mrs. Weasley called, "Time for tea," and they followed each other into the kitchen.

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The end of the summer holidays had finally come, and Harry, Ron, and Ginny were enjoying their last day of freedom. They played Quidditch in the paddock and talked about Harry's strategy for the upcoming year, they raced their brooms daringly over the tops of the trees, and now they were sitting under the large oak tree just past the field of flowers.

Ron lay on his back, chattering about the upcoming year. "I can't wait to get on the train tomorrow. It will be great to be back at Hogwarts, won't it? Hasn't the summer seemed longer this year?"

Harry and Ginny caught each other's eye and grinned. They knew exactly why Ron was anxious for school to start, and it had nothing to do with school.

"I think I'll go and start packing," Ron said, standing up and brushing himself off. "You two coming?"

"Mmm, not yet," said Ginny, "it's too nice of a day."

"We'll be along soon," said Harry.

They missed the knowing look that Ron passed between them as he mounted his broom. "Alright, see you."

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Ginny shifted and looked up at the tree.

"Race you to the top?"

"Of that?" Harry said, looking up and shielding his eyes. "You're on."

"I have to warn you, I learned to climb on this tree. None of the boys has beaten me to the top since I was ten."

"Records are made to be broken."

They stood and positioned themselves on either side of the massive trunk, grasping at the low branches.

"Ready, set, go."

Harry's long arms reached past Ginny, but her speed and familiarity with the tree allowed her to reach the top easily and she waited for Harry, who hauled himself up to meet her at last. They sat there, swaying gently, looking out over the landscape.

"I can't believe we're going back tomorrow," Ginny said wistfully.

"I know. But I'm ready to go. Aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But… but I like being here, too. I like being here with you." She leaned her head against a thick limb and smiled softly.

"I like being here with you, too," he smiled. "You know, I've been friends with Ron and Hermione for so long, I've never really let myself get that close to anyone else. I'm glad we've had so much time together. I need more friends like you. Ron and Hermione, they're a good balance for me and we've been through so much together. But you… you seem to know me in a way that they don't. I'm not sure how to describe it. It feels really… nice," he finished lamely.

She held his eyes, letting the feelings that he couldn't put into words swirl around her heart. Happiness, contentment, affection, friendship.

"And what about tomorrow? Will we still be as close then?"

Harry's smile faded into a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Well it's not like we'll have time to just lie about and chat all day, is it? Back to real life and all that. I'll miss this."

"But we'll still see each other. And don't forget, I'm your captain now. After a few practices, you'll be wishing you could get rid of me," he teased.

She flashed a brief smile before turning serious again. "But if you ever want to just hang out, you know, and talk or, I don't know…"

He reached out and took her hand, bringing her eyes up to his.

"Same here."

She nodded and squeezed his hand in agreement before letting it drop. The shadows were lengthening across the field.

"It's getting late," Ginny said, and they started their descent down the tree.

Harry arrived at the bottom first and jumped down to the ground, reaching his arms up to help her. He grasped her around the waist and lowered her down in front of him. Ginny tensed at the nearness of him; she turned and faced him, but he didn't let her go. He wore a playful smile on his face and glanced up at the tree and then back down at her.

"I guess you won then."

She laughed. "What do I win?"

Her smile faded as he didn't answer but continued to look at her, searching her eyes. Her heart raced and she felt herself being lost in him. Unconsciously, she reached up and touched his cheek, caressing it. Tilting her face up to his, her lips parted.

Harry caught his breath and backed away, leaving Ginny standing with a mortified look on her face. A panic spread through him as he fought to form words that would sound reassuring.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not…" _Not now, not yet,_ his mind screamed. He felt terrible, like he had knocked the wind out of her. "I didn't mean to…"

"No. No, it's my fault, I'm sorry." Ginny raised her hand to her mouth; she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. "You said you just wanted to be friends. I should have…"

She should have what? Pushed away all those years of loving him when he had finally noticed her and actually wanted to be with her? Ignored the way her heart crashed in her chest whenever he touched her? Her eyes pricked in anger at the injustice of it. She turned and walked blindly through the grass, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

"Damn it," Harry swore under his breath. He cursed himself for letting this happen. He should have seen how she felt about him; he had thought he was being careful. But he couldn't let her walk away. Running to catch her up, he called for her to wait, but she ignored him. When he reached her, he touched her arm gently, but she stopped and jerked away from him.

"What," she sighed, her head beginning to ache from the stinging in her eyes.

"You're angry with me."

"I'm angry with myself. I thought I could do this, be friends with you. Now, I don't know."

"Don't say that," Harry pleaded. "Does it have to be all or nothing, Gin? I asked you if you still had feelings for me like that, and you said no."

She looked up with hurt in her eyes and then dropped her head. "I didn't say no."

_She hadn't? _he thought_. Well, she certainly hadn't said yes. _"I can't… I'm not ready for that kind of relationship with you. I like what we have now. We're so much closer, can't we just…" he tried desperately to explain. "I don't want to go back to just being some bloke who's friends with your brother. Is… is that what you want?"

The misery in her eyes made him afraid, for one terrible moment, that she might say yes. But she shook her head.

"No, I don't want that."

He exhaled in relief. "Good."

"But, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Just be careful, okay? I mean, what you said back there, it made me feel… and if you don't want…" She heaved a sigh. "You need to give me some space if I'm going to be able to do this."

He backed away a step further and held up his hands in surrender. "Okay."

She exhaled and her posture relaxed. "Okay."

They returned to the house without talking. Ginny ran up to her room, and Harry slumped on the sofa as Ron came in from the kitchen. He sat down next to Harry and offered him a biscuit, taking another bite of his own and glancing toward the stairs.

"You two were gone for a long time."

"So?"

"Everything alright?"

Harry stared at his biscuit without answering. He didn't want to talk to Ron about this, not yet. He needed time to think first. Finally, he stuffed the biscuit into his mouth wearily and said, "Let's play chess."


	8. Real Life and All That

_A/N: A few people have commented about my use of the song "Scarborough Fair" in Chapter 6, so just a note of clarification. Some of you may not realize that the song did not originate with Simon & Garfunkel. It is a traditional English ballad and some say it dates back to medieval times. The lyrics that I used are the traditional ones, which are slightly different than the S&G version. The words are so haunting and beautiful, and it is my favorite song. I was so pleased to be able to include it in my story!_

Chapter 8 - Real Life and All That

The Burrow was a flurry of activity, and Harry and Ginny hardly had time to exchange two words, let alone talk about what had happened under the tree. They had both lain awake for several hours, and morning had come far too soon.

"Trunks!" Mr. Weasley called from downstairs.

Harry heard Ron's trunk bumping off the walls as he tried to levitate it down the stairs. He strapped on his wand holster and hurriedly checked his room for any last minute items.

"Ow, Ron!" Ginny exclaimed as she tried to run up the stairs and was blindsided by the floating chest. She ran into Harry's room, rubbing her shoulder with one hand and dropping a stack of clean t-shirts onto his bed with the other.

"These are yours," she mumbled and ran out of the room again before Harry could register her.

"Gin…" he said, but she was already gone. He growled in frustration as he gathered up the shirts and stuffed them into his trunk, closing the lid. He wanted to talk to her, to make sure they were alright. But the morning of September first was never conducive to meaningful conversations.

He tried to catch her eye as they loaded themselves into the ministry car, but she busied herself with the clasp on her cloak and climbed into the middle seat with her mother, forcing Harry to take the rear seat next to Ron and stare at the back of Ginny's head for the duration of the trip.

They emerged through the barrier at King's Cross onto Platform 9¾ and melted into the sea of students and parents saying their final goodbyes before boarding the Hogwarts Express. Ron immediately started scanning the crowd.

"Do you see her?" he asked anxiously.

Harry looked around for Hermione's wavy hair but couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him. Suddenly, the crowd parted and there she was, elbowing her way toward them with a beaming smile.

"Hi," she said breathlessly. She greeted everyone and let Mrs. Weasley admire the Head Girl badge shining proudly on her jumper.

Finally, Ron was able to sweep her into a hug. "I was looking for you."

"I was just helping some first years get on the train. First day jitters, you know. I've got a compartment for us." She led them to the front of the train where they stowed their trunks along with Hedwig and Pig in the luggage racks next to Crookshanks, then went back outside to say goodbye to the Weasleys.

After Mrs. Weasley finished hugging and worrying over him, Hermione tugged on Ron's hand. "Come with me and meet my parents! They've been waiting for you."

Ron's face paled. "Your parents?" he croaked.

Hermione gave him a stern look. "Don't be silly. You've met them before, they just want to say hello. Come on, we've only got a few minutes. Oh, Ginny, once the train gets moving, meet us in the Prefects' Car for the meeting, alright?"

Ron looked around to Harry for help as Hermione led him away, but Harry only laughed. The crowd began to thin out as the students boarded the train, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned to say their goodbyes.

"Goodbye, sweetheart, have a wonderful year," Mrs. Weasley said, hugging Ginny and handing her a bag. "Here are sandwiches for you all, make sure Ron gets one, won't you?"

When she turned to Harry, her eyes seemed to brighten a little as she reached up to pat his cheeks. "Goodbye, Harry. I can't believe it's only been a few years since we met you right here in this station, and now look at you, all grown up."

Harry hugged her and said, "Thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley. We'll see you at Christmas."

Mr. Weasley shook his hand and leaned in to Harry's ear. "Don't worry about anything here; the Order will look after things. You just concentrate on getting through your last year. I expect Dumbledore will keep you updated if anything important happens." He straightened up and clapped Harry on the shoulder, smiling. "Take care of yourself. Sorry we can't stay; we need to get the car back to the Ministry."

Harry nodded and watched as they disappeared through the barrier. When they were out of sight, he turned back to Ginny, who had a wistful look on her face as she watched her parents go. She met his eyes, and they were both startled to realize that they were alone for the first time all morning.

"Hi," Harry smiled.

Ginny smiled in return. "Hi."

"I wanted to…" Harry began, when he heard a shout behind him.

"There he is!" In a flash, he was surrounded by two reporters and their cameramen, snapping his picture and bombarding him with a stream of questions.

"Harry, how do you feel about going off for your last year of school?"

"What are your plans for after you leave Hogwarts?"

"Look this way, Harry!"

"Harry, do you know anything about the whereabouts of You-Know-Who?"

Harry's mind changed instantly from shock to anger, and he had only one thought - to get out of the glare of the cameras and onto the train as quickly as possible.

He grabbed Ginny's arm and ducked his head to avoid the flashbulbs, but the group blocked their path, and the few people left on the platform were beginning to stare. Determined not to answer their questions, he tried to steer Ginny around them and eventually had to resort to pushing the female reporter out of the way so they could get through.

"Leave him alone!" Ginny shouted at the woman as they passed.

"Ginny," Harry whispered frantically, "just go!"

"Are you his girlfriend?" the second reporter, a young man, asked.

At this, Harry stopped and wheeled around in frustration. "Hey! It's bad enough you come here and harass _me_. Leave my friends out of this."

Ginny, however, gave the man a steely glare. "That's none of your business," she spat.

"We're only reporting what the public wants to know!"

"Oh yeah, well tell 'the public' to…"

"Ginny!" Harry tightened his grip on her arm. "On… now!" He forced her up the stairs and through the door and didn't let go until they reached their empty compartment. He slammed the door shut, causing Crookshanks to hiss and Hedwig to ruffle her feathers reprovingly.

Ginny turned to him, her cheeks flushed. "That was so unfair! How dare they corner you like that!"

"Yeah, well you just made it a whole hell of a lot worse," Harry said forcefully.

Ginny's eyes went round as saucers. "Me! I told them to leave you alone and that it was none of their business!"

"You told them it's none of their business that you're my _girlfriend_!"

"I'm not your… I didn't say that!"

"But that's what they'll hear! You can't say things like that to reporters, they twist everything around to what they want it to be. You have to ignore them! Don't answer any questions, I don't want people thinking you're my girlfriend!"

The volume in the compartment had reached a fever pitch, but now, the silence was just as deafening.

Ginny raised her chin defiantly and spoke in a barely controlled voice. "I know. You've made that perfectly clear."

Their eyes locked in a furious stare. They hadn't realized it, but during their shouting match the train had pulled away from the station, and they could now hear the clacking of the wheels on the tracks. Harry's jaw clenched and he made a visible effort to bring his voice under control.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Save it, Harry. I know exactly what you meant."

Ginny lowered her eyes and turned away just as the compartment door slid open and a tall, blonde boy stuck his head in.

"Hi, Ginny!" Colin smiled. But his smile soon faded as the tension in the room hit him like a ton of bricks. "I was… just checking if you're coming to the prefect's meeting."

"Yes, I am," she said briskly. "Let's go." She brushed coldly past Harry and out into the corridor, not waiting to see if Colin was following her.

Colin watched her retreating back and then turned to Harry. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," he said nervously.

"S'ok," Harry grunted as he dropped into a seat.

"Okay then… I'll just be going."

"You do that."

Colin looked as though he wanted to say more, but instead he nodded and closed the door, leaving Harry quite alone.

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Draco Malfoy sauntered to the Prefects' Car at the front of the train, smiling at the way his Head Boy badge had been inspiring looks of awe and fear ever since he had arrived at the train station. He reveled in the fact that a Slytherin had finally claimed the top spot once again, and he looked forward to reminding the rest of the school that it was the Slytherins who were indeed the most noble house at Hogwarts.

But his smirk turned to a sneer as he reached the car only to see that his new Head Girl, Granger, and her insufferable red-headed sidekick were already there. She appeared to be looking over some notes as Weasley sat talking heatedly at her, unaware that Draco was watching them through the glass. She was giving him short, one-word answers. Draco had to admit that she was something of an expert when it came to ignoring harassment from others.

It was inevitable that Hermione would be made Head Girl. He had known it even before Dumbledore had told him. His father would be outraged if he knew that his son's coveted Head Boy status was tainted by having to serve with someone of such inferior breeding. Draco snorted, thinking that that was not all his father would be outraged by if he knew the truth. But the walls of Azkaban had separated Draco from his father for the past year and in that time, he had learned some hard lessons about loyalty and honor.

Hermione looked up and caught sight of him, locking her eyes to his for only a moment before hastily stuffing her parchments back into her bag. She shushed Ron as the door slid open.

"Well, well, if it isn't everyone's favorite know-it-all and her pet Weasel."

Ron's face grew red and he looked to Hermione, begging silently for permission to hex Malfoy until that smirk was removed from his face permanently. But Hermione remained unfazed.

"Letting loose the insults so soon, Malfoy? The train hasn't even left the station. Better save some or you'll have none left for the ride."

"If you've trained Potter to keep his mouth shut as well, I may not have to use them at all," Draco smirked. "But that would be a pity; I've so been looking forward to it. I've got some really good ones this year."

"That's it." Ron stood up abruptly, but Hermione, anticipating him, had already moved between them.

"Malfoy," she said, an edge creeping into her voice. "Could I speak to you outside for a few minutes? I have some things I want to go over before the meeting starts."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I read the brief from Dumbledore, Granger, there's nothing we need to discuss."

Hermione stood her ground. "It will only take a minute," she repeated as she gestured to the door, waiting for him to open it.

He cast another cool glance at Ron before sliding the door open and stepping into the corridor. Hermione closed the door and motioned for him to follow her to the end of the car into the private entryway. She turned to him and gathered her courage. Putting her carefully crafted plan into action, she smiled.

"Well, Draco, congratulations on making Head Boy. Your mother must be very proud."

Draco grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Spare me, Granger."

"And you too, Hermione," she continued. "Congratulations on making Head Girl." She waited. "Go on, say it."

"If you think I'm going to make polite small talk with you, your intelligence has been sorely overrated."

"Oh, but you will," she said patiently, "because this is how we are going to behave toward each other this year. We are going to be civil and responsible and live up to these badges on our chests even if it bloody well kills us. Professor Dumbledore, for some reason known only to God I am sure, has made you Head Boy. Why he ever thought that you and I working together was a good idea, I'll never know. But I will not let you undermine our position with your petty insults and house-bashing."

Draco surveyed her with a practiced look of unconcern. "_I_ am not the one who needs lessons in decorum, Granger. I can get along quite pleasantly with anyone I choose, so long as their last name is not Potter or Weasley. Not that you would know, since you cannot bring yourself to make friends with anyone _but_ a Potter or a Weasley. Or should I say _more_ than friends?"

"Leave Ron out of this. This is between you and me."

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward so that his clear grey eyes bore into hers. "Let's get one thing straight, Granger. There has never been, nor will there ever be, anything between _you_ and _me_."

He noted the look of disdain in Hermione's eyes with satisfaction, and straightened himself up, adjusting the cuffs of his crisply pressed shirt.

"Congratulations, _Hermione_, on making Head Girl. I'm sure your mudblood parents are very proud."

Hermione crossed her arms and smirked triumphantly. "Well, it's a start. Now that that's out of the way, I have a proposition for you."

He raked his eyes over her body. "I seriously doubt you have anything that could tempt me."

"I don't know," she said, returning his smug gaze. "How do you feel about Hufflepuffs?"

She saw that she had knocked him off-balance, and the smugness turned to a flicker of confusion before he carefully schooled his expression, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Hufflepuffs? What about them? They're good and honest and upstanding. I have no use for them really."

"Mmm hmm," Hermione hummed interestedly. "Ravenclaws?"

"What's this about?"

"Well, we're going to be Head Boy and Girl over the _entire_ school. I'm just trying to gauge how we can use that to our… advantage." She paused to let her words sink in, knowing that if she spoke his language, Malfoy would be much more likely to go along with her. "Ravenclaws?"

"Ravenclaws can be useful. If they would put their minds to use for things other than schoolwork, that is."

"And we already know how you feel about Gryffindors," Hermione stated as a foregone conclusion. "Well, then you'll be happy to hear that I've worked out a plan that will enable us to spend as little time with each other as possible."

Hermione proceeded to lay out her plan for Malfoy to retain his power over Slytherin house while she took up the reigns of the other three houses, hoping that he would see this as a decrease in his workload while still retaining all the perks of being Head Boy. When she finished, he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

"You want me to give up the power that I finally have to make the rest of the school give Slytherin the respect it deserves? You're mad."

"Unfortunately, I cannot make a ferret change its spots. I can't stop you from intimidating them. But when it comes to the nuts and bolts of _managing_ them, you leave that to me. The Slytherins are all yours, I won't touch them. Are we agreed?"

It was so like a Gryffindor, Draco thought. For all her spouting about house unity, Hermione was just like the others. Unity only at the exclusion of the Slytherins, who must all be evil and hated. But, if Hermione wanted to believe that he was incapable of showing support and fairness toward the other houses, and it was probably better that she did, then he would go along with it. It might even prove useful in protecting his image in the eyes of… certain people.

"Agreed."

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An hour and a half later, the air inside the Prefects' Car was beginning to get stuffy, and people were fidgeting.

"Alright," said Hermione, "the last thing we need to do is to hand out assignments for this evening once we reach Hogsmeade. I need one prefect from each house to see that your second-years get into the carriages without any mishaps as this will be their first time riding in them. Volunteers?"

Ginny's hand shot up for Gryffindor. Anything that would occupy her time would make it less likely that she would run in to Harry, which, at this point, could only be a good thing.

"Okay, good," said Hermione, making several marks in her notes. She went on to hand out more assignments, but Ginny had stopped listening. She stared out the window at the blurred landscape rushing past, still mulling through feelings of anger and sadness, until she was jolted out of her thoughts by Colin gently shaking her shoulder.

"Hey, you in there?" he said, smiling. People were standing and had begun filing out of the car. "Want to grab a bite to eat from the cart for lunch? There's room in my car. Unless you'd rather go back to your own…"

"No!" Ginny exclaimed. "I mean, that sounds great. I'd love to get some lunch. Thanks."

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"Prefect meeting over?" Harry asked as Anthony Goldstein, one of the Ravenclaw prefects, slid into the car where Harry, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Terry Boot had been catching up with each other. After wallowing in irritation and self-pity for a good half-hour, Harry had left his empty car and wandered up and down the corridors until he spotted his housemates, welcoming the chance to relax and laugh for a bit with people who didn't care who he was, but just treated him like any other mate.

"How was Malfoy?" Seamus wanted to know.

Anthony shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Bit strange really, he just kind of stared everyone down, but didn't really say much. Hermione did most of the talking."

Harry laughed. "That's because Hermione's been planning for that meeting all summer. She probably wouldn't let Malfoy get a word in edgewise."

"That's our girl," said Dean.

"I'd better go see what she and Ron are up to," Harry said, rising from his seat.

"Hoping you'll catch them in the act?" sniggered Seamus. "Bet Hermione's already taught him a few things," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "It's always the quiet bookish ones. I'd love to get my hands on some of those Ravenclaw girls."

"Like you would know, Finnigan," Harry scoffed, causing the other boys to double over in laughter. Harry had made the mistake of telling them about the new status of Ron and Hermione's relationship, and he didn't envy the greeting that Ron was likely to get from them once they reached school.

But he soon discovered that Seamus wasn't far off the mark when he reached his car to find Ron and Hermione snuggled together in a corner, his arm draped around her, whispering something in her ear that made her blush and smile.

Harry noted with relief and a little disappointment that Ginny wasn't there. He slid the door open and cleared his throat loudly. "Don't mind me," he said dryly, dropping into the seat opposite them. They rearranged themselves on the bench and smiled apologetically.

"How was the meeting, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"You should have seen her, she was brilliant," Ron jumped in.

"Anthony said you didn't let Malfoy get a word in."

Hermione sat up proudly and smiled. "We had a chat before the meeting and laid down a few ground rules. It went rather well, I thought. But it's not like he didn't say _anything_."

"Yeah, but he mostly only talked to the Slytherins, which was fine by me," Ron said. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he leaned forward on his knees. "Hey, Ginny told me about what happened on the platform. That was rotten luck, mate. Sorry we weren't there."

Hermione's smile disappeared into a frown. "Why… what? What happened?"

Harry blew out a breath. "Nothing. Just some reporters cornered me and Ginny as we were getting on the train, kept trying to snap my picture."

Hermione sucked in her breath in shock. "What? Oh, no! How did they get on the platform? Only students and parents are allowed through the barrier, they know that! Ooh, wait 'til I get my hands on Rita."

"It wasn't Rita," Harry said. "I didn't recognize them. I was just trying to get away from them as fast as I could."

"Ginny seemed pretty upset about it," Ron pushed. "Did something else happen?"

"Well…" Harry hedged.

"What?" Ron said.

Harry looked apprehensively between his friends. If Ron thought that he had hurt Ginny somehow, he would be in for it. But he decided that he might as well tell them now before they read it in the morning paper.

"One of the reporters asked her if she was my girlfriend."

"So, she's not," Ron shrugged, creasing his eyebrows. "Right?" he added with an edge in his voice.

Harry shook his head. "No, of course not."

"What's the problem then?"

"She told them it was none of their business."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Oh, no."

Ron looked at her agitatedly. "What's wrong with that?"

"Because," she explained, "it makes it look like she's trying to hide something, like she really is his girlfriend but doesn't want anyone to know."

Harry nodded, thankful that at least someone understood. "I can just imagine what the papers will say tomorrow."

Hermione sighed. "No offense, Harry, but being your 'press girlfriend' is no picnic. I ought to know." She could still remember having to run to the hospital wing after receiving an angry letter containing bubotuber pus, all because some anonymous witch had believed a gossip article in _Witch Weekly _about her cheating on Harry with Viktor Krum.

"I know," Harry nodded. "I tried to tell her that, but she took it the wrong way and we got into an awful row and now she's right hacked off at me." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "I should probably go find her."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione jumped in. "Maybe you should give her a little space. Wait and see what the damage is in the papers tomorrow and then you can talk to her."

"She's right, mate. The best thing to do with Ginny when she's hacked off is just leave her alone for a while 'til she cools down. Believe me."

Harry leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Oh," said Hermione, checking her watch, "I suppose I'd better do some rounds. I'll be back in a little while." She leaned forward and patted Harry's knee. "Don't worry, it'll be alright."

As they rode on in silence, Harry watched the passing landscape, and Ron watched Harry.

"What's really going on with you and my sister?" Ron asked finally.

Harry continued to stare out the window before answering. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not blind. You spent almost as much time with her this summer as you did with me. Do you… are you starting to have feelings for her?"

This time Harry met Ron's eyes. "No. I don't know. Not feelings like that. I just wanted to get to know her better, you know? I like being around her. But it's probably moot now. Seems like being friends with me is more trouble than it's worth. I'm surprised you and Hermione have stuck around this long."

Ron snorted. "But you know how she feels about you, right?"

Harry smiled ruefully. "I do now."

"Why, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"It was yesterday, wasn't it. Something happened between you two."

"Yeah, alright, something happened," Harry snapped. "But look, I really don't want to go into it, okay?"

"She was a nervous wreck before you came this summer, you know. Wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. She got that hand for the clock, cleaned out Bill's room." Ron paused. "I don't think she ever really got over the way she used to feel about you."

"And you didn't think you might want to tell me any of this?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "Didn't think it mattered to you. Never did before."

"No, I guess it didn't," Harry realized. "You're not going to give me the big brother speech, are you? Because you know I would never do anything to hurt her intentionally."

The corner of Ron's mouth curled up. "If I think you need the speech, I'll be sure to let you know."

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"I win!" Ginny declared, laughing as Colin waved away the smoke from the Exploding Snap deck and checked to make sure his eyebrows weren't singed.

"You cheated," Colin teased.

"I did not cheat," she smiled. "Dennis, did you see me cheat?"

Colin's younger brother looked up from his book in the corner. "I don't think she cheated, Colin."

The three of them had passed the afternoon pleasantly. Colin did his best to bring Ginny out of her sour mood, and he was pleased to see it seemed to have worked. He had asked about her summer and learned that Harry had come to live at the Burrow. Ginny's feelings for Harry were no secret to Colin, and he had tried to discern how she felt about sharing a house with him. But she was reluctant to talk about it, so he had steered the conversation toward more innocuous things. He had missed her terribly over the summer, and just being near her again was enough to put a perpetual smile on his face.

The sky began to change from blue to orange and the torches in the compartments sprang to life.

"We must be almost there," Ginny said. "I'd better go get my robes on."

"Okay, I'll see you at the feast."

Ginny smiled as she made her way along the corridor toward her own compartment, passing other students doing the same. She loved the friendship she had with Colin. So easy, so fun. Why was it so easy with Colin and so hard with Harry?

_Because,_ she answered herself, _you're not in love with Colin_.

She stopped outside the compartment, standing a little away for a moment. She could see Ron's long legs sprawled across one side of the car. He was probably asleep. On the other side, Harry and Hermione had their heads leaned together, deep in conversation. She watched the easy way they had with each other, the way Hermione touched his hand or his leg as they talked, the way he looked intently into her eyes like he was trying to convey something very important.

Of course, she thought, Hermione. It made perfect sense. Hermione was really the girl who knew him best, not her. Hermione was the one he confided in, the one he called on to help him and stand beside him. All of that business at the Burrow about him getting to know her and wanting to be near her… it was only because Hermione wasn't there.

And now that Hermione was back, he didn't need her anymore. Maybe he never had.


	9. First Impressions

Chapter 9 - First Impressions 

Hermione strode along the seventh floor corridor toward the Gryffindor common room with the newly sorted Gryffindor first years following close behind her. Reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, she stopped and turned to address the younger ones, causing the older Gryffindors to stack up behind them.

"Welcome to Gryffindor Tower," she beamed. "This is the Fat Lady. She guards the entrance to our common room and dormitories, where you'll be living and spending most of your time while you are at Hogwarts."

"Oi, Hermione! What's the password?" Seamus grumbled from the back of the crowd.

"The password for this year," she said to the first years as if she had not heard Seamus, "is 'Jobberknoll.' You just need to say that to the Fat Lady and she will open to…"

"Jobberknoll!" Seamus yelled, causing the portrait to swing forward, bumping Hermione in the rear and forcing her to stand aside.

The Gryffindors, including most of the first year boys, scrambled through the portrait hole, talking excitedly. Ron and Harry brought up the end of the line and paused before going in.

"Sorry," said Ron, patting her on the shoulder. "It's not like _we_ needed to hear the speech. But you go ahead," he smiled, gesturing to the few remaining first years standing obediently to the side, "you're doing a great job."

Hermione pursed her lips as Ron ducked through the hole. Harry shrugged apologetically before following him.

She turned back to the young faces staring at her expectantly and sighed. "Alright, in you go then."

The common room was bright and cozy with a roaring fire. The noise continued as groups of friends clumped together, sharing news and gossip. Some third year boys had already set off a few Whiz-Bangs in the corner, much to the delight of the third year girls.

Hermione groaned. "I thought I was rid of Fred and George already," she mumbled as she started across the room, only to be swept up from behind by Ron.

"C'mon," he whispered in her ear, "it's the first night back. Let them have some fun."

She frowned, but didn't go any further. "Alright, I suppose it doesn't hurt to let them get it out of their systems. But," she said, turning around to face him, "can you see that the first year boys get up to their room? Show them around?"

Ron looked over the top of the crowd, spotting a blonde head next to his sister. "Colin!" he yelled. Colin looked up and made his way over. "Can you take the firsties up to their room and get them settled in?"

"Sure," Colin smiled. "Be glad to." He walked away to round up the boys as Ron smiled in a self-satisfied way. Hermione, however, was not amused.

"What?" he asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes and crossed to the fire, perching on the arm of the couch next to Harry while Ron flopped into the armchair.

Harry had been watching Ginny out of the corner of his eye, hoping for some sort of glance or acknowledgement from her. But she had been studiously ignoring him since they had arrived at school.

Now that Colin had left her side, she seemed unsure of what to do with herself. Her eyes flickered toward the fire, passing over Harry, but he knew she had seen him. If only she would _look_ at him.

Hermione fidgeted, looking around the room. "I'd better go get the new girls upstairs."

"Let me do it, Hermione," Ginny called, perking up at the prospect of something to do. "I don't mind. I'm going up anyway."

"Oh... Okay, thanks," Hermione smiled.

Ginny gathered the four young girls and shepherded them up the stairs. Harry exhaled loudly, and Hermione turned to him with a sympathetic grin.

"What's the matter?"

"She's still mad. She won't even look at me."

"Harry, go to bed," she said, rubbing his arm. "Get a good night's sleep and then talk to her tomorrow."

"Thanks. Are you going to call me 'dear' now and pat my head like Mrs. Weasley?"

Ron laughed from his chair and Hermione swatted his arm. "Fine, be that way."

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Ginny watched as the girls wandered into the room and found their trunks. They seemed so small, she thought, far too small to be away from home on their own. She smiled, remembering herself as a new firstie at Hogwarts. But it had already seemed like home to her when she came.

Only one of the girls, a pixyish little thing with a dark brown ponytail and lightly freckled nose, seemed to feel immediately comfortable in the new room, putting away her clothes and arranging her nightstand in a no-nonsense, unconcerned fashion. The other three looked slightly less sure of themselves.

"Well, I'm Ginny Weasley, sixth year prefect. Welcome to Gryffindor. I'll let you get settled in, but if you need anything, I'm right upstairs."

A girl with light brown hair who was a little taller than the others looked up from her trunk and smiled. But the other two, both fair-skinned blondes, were fidgeting by their beds, looking very nervous and shy.

"Ginny?" one of them said. "Could you help me? I never even knew I was a witch until I got my Hogwarts letter, and I'm not really sure what to do. Do I have to use magic to put my things away?"

Ginny smiled. "No, of course not. You'll learn all of that later." She went over and sat on the bed. "What's your name?

"Emma."

"So, are your parents Muggles, then?"

Emma nodded. "I guess that's what you'd call them. Aren't you from a Muggle family as well, Charlotte?"

The other blonde girl nodded.

"Well, I promise that you will love Hogwarts," said Ginny. "There's no better house than Gryffindor. To be in Gryffindor, the hat must have seen that you are very brave. Did you know that?" They shook their heads. "You'll get to learn all sorts of new things and meet some wonderful, interesting people."

"Like Harry Potter?" The ponytail girl perched on the end of her bed with a knowing smile. "Olivia and I saw him downstairs."

"Oh, Ginny," gasped Olivia, "was that really Harry Potter, sitting by the fire?"

Ginny, taken aback by the sudden mention of Harry, just smiled and nodded.

"My mummy told me about him. Did he really defeat the Dark Lord when he was just a baby?" she asked.

"Yes, he did," the ponytail girl interrupted. "I know all about him. My grandmother has met him. She says he's a very powerful wizard, but he gets into a lot of trouble."

Ginny couldn't help but be amused and a little annoyed at this girl's presumption. "What did you say your name was?"

"Miranda Hopkirk."

"Hopkirk? So, your grandmother is..."

"Mafalda Hopkirk. She works in the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry. Did you know that he conjured a corporeal Patronus against some dementors when he was only fifteen?"

"I did know that," Ginny smirked.

"Who's Harry Potter?" asked Emma.

"_Who's Harry Potter?_ Only the most famous wizard in the world," snorted Miranda. "He has a scar on his forehead, that's how you can tell who he is. I heard that he's so powerful, he doesn't even have to use a wand."

"Of course he has to use a wand," said Ginny, "just like everyone else."

"How do you know?" asked Olivia, whose eyes had grown wide.

"He's the most famous wizard in the world?" Charlotte squeaked.

"Listen," Ginny said to everyone. "Harry is a very good friend of mine. Yes, he's very famous, but he wouldn't want you to think of him that way. He would rather you just think of him as a regular bloke. And if you need to ask questions or want to know anything about him, just ask _me_," she raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Miranda, "or Hermione Granger. She's the Head Girl."

"What's he like, Ginny?"

"He's so handsome, I almost died when I realized it was him."

Ginny laughed at their unabashedness, then became thoughtful.

"He's a good person. And very brave. And a good friend." She smiled wistfully, realizing that it was good to remind herself of exactly who Harry was to her. "Well, I think that's enough for tonight. You girls finish up and then get to bed."

She let herself out and began to climb the stairs to her room, lost in thought.

_Was it really only yesterday that it was just him and me at the Burrow? Seems like ages. The way he held my hand and looked at me, I was so sure. But he said it, didn't he. "I don't want people thinking you're my girlfriend." Well, you don't get much clearer than that. But can we still be friends?_

Friends. Ginny mulled the word over in her mind. What did it even mean?

She paused, looking down the stairs, and could see the dim light of the fire flickering in the doorway at the bottom. She had a sudden aching in her chest to go down and see if he was still there. Just to see him, just to look into his eyes and know that she hadn't ruined everything.

No. She shook her head. She wouldn't go chasing after him. She had been that girl once, and she did not want to be her again. He didn't want her. End of story.

She climbed the stairs and stood outside the door to her room. She could hear her dormmates inside, chattering. Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on her face, she opened the door.

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The fire in the common room hearth had dwindled down until it was nothing more than glowing embers. The room was empty save for a boy who still sat on the couch, chewing his thumbnail and staring into the dark. He had turned at the distant sound of a door coming from the girls' staircase. He waited, but heard nothing more.

_She's not coming down._

Harry sighed and rose from the couch, making his way up to the top of the tower.

"Harry! We were wondering what happened to you."

"Hi, Neville," Harry smiled pleasantly at his old friend. "Have a good summer?"

"It was alright. I was sorry I missed you at Diagon Alley," Neville said, climbing into bed. "How was yours?"

Harry paused, staring into his open trunk, looking for his pajamas. "It was nice, actually. Thanks."

Ron came in from the bathroom and stopped next to Harry. "It's about time. Did you talk to her?"

Harry shook his head. Ron slapped him on the back and moved over to his own bed. After a few minutes of shuffling through his trunk and changing into his green pajama bottoms, Harry crawled into his own familiar four-poster, where he finally succumbed to sleep.

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The next morning at breakfast, Harry had just begun to tuck in to his sausages when a flurry of owls soared through the windows of the Great Hall. He suddenly didn't feel very hungry as he watched a large brown owl land in front of Hermione, who was sitting across from him next to Ron. She took the rolled up newspaper from the owl and deposited a bronze Knut in its pouch before it flew away.

Harry watched her face as she scanned the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. "Just tell me quick. How bad is it?" He screwed his eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

"Well, nothing on the front page. That's good."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced down the table to where Ginny was sitting with her roommates, Maura and Anna. They were chattering away at her, but Harry noticed that she too was watching the owls with apprehension.

"Nothing on page two," Hermione continued, spreading the paper in front of her and flipping the pages while Ron looked over her shoulder. "Nothing on the Quidditch page…"

"Hey, can I see that?" Ron asked, pulling the sports section from her. She looked at him with an inscrutable expression before turning over to the back cover of the paper. "And nothing on the society page. Nothing."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Are you joking?" He grabbed the paper and thumbed through it quickly, not believing his luck. But Hermione knit her eyebrows together in confusion.

"Something's not right. Why would they give up the chance to put something about you in the paper? Especially if they had pictures to go with it?"

She looked up and down the table until she spotted something that made her face relax into the look Harry knew all too well as the expression she got when she had just figured out something. He followed her gaze to were Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil sat, hunched over a magazine and giggling together.

Hermione stood up and walked down the table, stopping to talk to Parvati, and returned clutching two magazines in her hand.

"I thought so," she said, tossing them down in front of Harry.

One was _Witch Weekly_, which he recognized as the magazine that had originally run the gossip articles about he and Hermione a few years before. The other was a newer magazine called _Modern Young Witch_. Both had small inset photos on their covers of Harry hurrying Ginny onto the Hogwarts Express with captions that read "Harry Potter Returns To School, But Is He Alone?" and "Has Harry Found Love At Last?"

Hermione flipped quickly through _Witch Weekly_, finding the small blurb and photo in the "Celebrity Sightings" section.

"Well," she said, "you were right. They think she's your girlfriend. It even talks about how she was with you at that Quidditch match this summer."

"They weren't alone. I was there, too," Ron protested, taking the magazine from Hermione.

"A fact they conveniently left out," Hermione fumed. The story was much the same in _Modern Young Witch_.

"At least they didn't know you were living at the Burrow," Ron pointed out. "They would have had you two practically married." He shook his head in disgust.

Harry looked at Ginny, seeing that she was also reading one of the magazines. When she finished, she slammed it down on the table and stood up. Her friends tried to calm her, but she yanked her bag onto her shoulder and quickly left the hall, not even glancing at Harry as she passed.

He made to stand up and go after her, but Hermione reached across the table and grabbed his arm. "No. Stay here."

"Hermione, I have to talk to her."

"Not now. If you go rushing out after her, everyone will see you. They're already waiting to see what your reaction will be. If you really don't want people to think you are together then _just stay put._"

"I'll go," said Ron, grabbing another piece of toast and hurrying out of the hall after Ginny.

Harry turned discreetly to look at the other tables and saw that there were indeed several pairs of eyes trained on him. They were mostly female eyes, though he noticed that Draco Malfoy was also looking in his direction with a malevolent sneer.

"Eat some breakfast," Hermione directed. "Just try and act normal."

Harry stabbed at his plate, but didn't end up eating much of anything. After an interminable amount of time, he asked, "Can we go now?"

Hermione looked at her watch. "Yes, let's head down to the dungeons. We don't want to be late for Potions."

"No," he said sarcastically, "we certainly wouldn't want that."

They joined the queue outside of dungeon five when Draco Malfoy, looking up from the group of Slytherins he was talking to, strode over to them.

"Well, Potter," he spat, crossing his arms. "Can't even manage to get on a train without an entourage to record your every move. The witches in this world must be really desperate if they're interested in _your_ love life. Or lack thereof, by the look of Weasley's reaction at breakfast."

"I don't have time for you today, Malfoy. Why don't you go pick on someone of your own intelligence. Oh look, here come Crabbe and Goyle," he added facetiously.

"Ah," he said, turning to Hermione, "so you haven't trained him to keep his mouth shut as well, then?"

Harry's eyes flashed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Stop it, both of you. Now," Hermione hissed. But they paid no attention to her.

"You know, Potter, when you're done with Weasley, you should let me know. Maybe I could show her what she's been missing all these years while she's been pining after you."

Harry's cheeks colored in fury as he advanced on Malfoy. "Don't you go near her! You foul…"

"STOP IT!" Hermione threw herself between them, pushing with one hand on Harry's chest and the other on Draco's. "Harry, you do _not_ want detention from Snape on the first day back." Draco smirked in triumph, but she wheeled around to face him as well. "And neither do you. You are the _Head Boy_!"

The fire in Draco's eyes cooled considerably. "I am well aware of who I am, Granger."

The boys continued to glare at each other silently, but slowly backed away from Hermione just as Professor Snape opened the dungeon door. His eyes darted from Draco to Harry to Hermione, seeming disappointed that he had not caught them in whatever argument he had clearly heard through the door. He looked around at the assembled group of seventh years.

"Well," he said through tight lips, "would you all like to grace my classroom with your presence or have we given up learning in favor of gawking at _Witch Weekly's_ favorite celebrity again?"

The class filed into the cool, dim room. Harry took a stool next to Hermione near the back while Snape swept up to the front of the class, robes billowing.

"You have nine months in which to prepare for your NEWT examination in Advanced Potions. Judging by the performance of this class last year, I'd say you all have your work cut out for you… with few exceptions." His eyes flicked briefly over the table at the front where Draco sat smugly next to Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.

Snape had allowed nearly all of the Slytherins in Harry's year into his Advanced Potions class following their OWL exams in fifth year, with the notable exceptions of Crabbe and Goyle, and he delighted in favoring them above all the other students in his class.

"This year, we will be dissecting and brewing antidotes." He paused to tap his wand on the blackboard behind him. The names of the students appeared, two by two. "Your partners for this term are listed on the board. You will choose two potions from this list and two from this list," he said, striking the board with two sharp raps, causing the lists to appear, "to be completed by the end of first term."

Harry looked at the lists of potions. One group was titled "Healing Drafts" and the other "Restorative Draughts." He then looked over the list of partners and saw that he was paired with Eleanor Bridgeton. Eleanor was a Ravenclaw. Harry had never spoken to her before that he could recall, but he recognized her from the previous year's Advanced Potions class. She was certainly an improvement over the partners he had had to endure then: Blaise Zabini of Slytherin and Ernie MacMillan of Hufflepuff respectively.

"As seventh years, you will be permitted access to my private storeroom for any restricted ingredients you may require. I will remind you that you may _only _gain access to my storeroom by obtaining direct permission from me… a detail that _some _of you have overlooked in past years."

His eyes rested on Harry, whom he had long suspected, but never proven, to be behind the various ingredients that had gone missing from his private stores in the years since Harry had come to Hogwarts. But Harry, no longer intimidated by Snape's threats and innuendos, returned his sneer with a calm, disinterested look.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, what is the difference between a Healing Draft and a Restorative Draught?"

Hermione shifted nervously beside him, but Harry knew she did not dare feed him any answers while Snape was paying such close attention.

"A Healing Draft is used to cure a magically induced disease or curse. And, um, a Restorative Draught is used to restore the person to full health after they've been cured."

Hermione tutted beside him and shook her head slightly.

"Typical," Snape replied, looking down his hooked nose. "You think you have all the answers when you really only know half the story. Five points from Gryffindor."

As Harry rarely ever spoke in Potions class without Snape finding some excuse to take points from Gryffindor, he was grateful that he had only lost five points for his house. He knew he must have gotten at least part of the answer correct.

"Would anyone care to enlighten Mr. Potter on the correct definition of a Restorative Draught?" He turned his back to Harry, preemptively ignoring Hermione's automatically raised hand. "Miss Bridgeton?"

All eyes turned to the slim girl with long dark hair in the middle of the classroom. She sat up straight and held her head high.

"A Restorative Draught is used to restore a human or other being to its original state after it has been physically altered by a spell, curse, or transfiguration."

"Correct. You may have Mr. Potter's five points for Ravenclaw. Perhaps with you as a partner, he may be able to achieve higher than a 'D' on his NEWTs after all." This earned a round of sniggering from the Slytherins and a scornful glare from Snape in Harry's direction.

"Thank you, sir," Eleanor said, though she did cast a brief, apologetic glance at Harry.

Snape strode back up to his desk and faced the class. For the next half-hour, he lectured on the uses and properties of some of the more obscure potions ingredients they would be using. Finally, just as Harry's hand was starting to cramp from taking notes, he closed his book and sat down.

"For the remainder of class you will research and begin preparations for your first potion. Move to your partner. _Now_."

There was a scuffle of stools and bags as the class rearranged itself. It was Hermione's turn to be partnered with Blaise, and she moved to the front of the room, settling beside him and pulling out her textbook with a businesslike air that made Blaise glance at Draco and roll his eyes. Draco snorted sympathetically in return as he dropped his bag next to Anthony Goldstein at the table behind them. It really was a pity, he thought, that such a spectacular intelligence should be wasted on a person of such inferior blood as Hermione Granger.

On the other side of the room, Eleanor joined Harry and took the seat that Hermione had vacated.

"Hi, I'm Eleanor," she smiled, "but people call me Ellie. It's funny, but I don't think we've ever really been introduced before." Her long brown hair, clipped up with barrettes, cascaded around her shoulders as she leaned to pull her ink and parchment out of her bag. Harry was struck at once by her clear, blue eyes. She looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't think who she reminded him of. He supposed he must just be remembering her from class the previous year.

"Hi, I'm Harry," he said, but realized immediately by the amused look on her face that an introduction wasn't necessary. "But I guess you already knew that," he mumbled, embarrassed.

She merely smiled.

They looked through the textbook and discussed their notes before deciding to tackle the Angelica Healing Draught, used to reverse the affects of the Possession Curse, a dark magic by which a person was possessed by the spirit of another entity. Harry couldn't help but think of Ginny and wondered, if it had been known that she was possessed by the spirit of Tom Riddle, if this potion could have helped her and avoided many of the events surrounding the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

Ellie gathered their list of ingredients and handed it over to Professor Snape for approval before disappearing into the stockroom while Harry prepared their tools and cauldron. She returned with two jars and a handful of flowers.

"Here," she said, handing Harry a jar. "You slice up this angelica root and I'll chop the cornflowers."

They worked in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the dull rocking of the knives on the wooden cutting boards. While he worked, Harry kept glancing at Ellie with a slightly furrowed brow.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked finally.

Startled out of his thoughts, Harry shook his head and smiled. "Sorry. You just remind me of someone, but I can't think who."

"I hate it when that happens," she said, continuing to dice the blue petals.

Harry reached for another angelica root, but his hand knocked the jar and it crashed to the floor, causing everyone to stop their work and look up at the sound. Professor Snape strode over to their table and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you completely inept, Potter, or do you save it all for my class? Ten points from Gryffindor. And clean up this mess. Unless your _Reparo_ work is as shoddy as your Potions work?"

Harry clenched his jaw and managed to grind out a "No, sir." He pulled out his wand and repaired the shattered jar in an instant, then knelt to scoop up the fallen angelica root from the floor.

"I do apologize, Miss Bridgeton, for placing you with this poor excuse for a partner. But I had no choice. You seemed the most likely to be able to compensate for his inabilities."

"Quite alright, sir," Ellie said, restraining herself from giving a more brusque reply. She looked at Harry as Snape returned to his desk.

"Your day is just going from bad to worse, isn't it?"

Harry gave a short laugh. "Thanks for noticing."

"It's bollocks the way he treats you," she whispered, now attacking her flowers with renewed fervor. "There's no reason for it other than pure spite. What has he got against you anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I was born."

Ellie stopped her chopping and looked up at him, the weight of his simple statement striking her forcefully. In all of her years at Hogwarts, she, along with the rest of the school, and watched Harry, heard stories about him, admired and gossiped about him from afar. He was the one, the celebrity, untouchable. But she suddenly saw Harry Potter in a whole new light. Instead of an icon, a champion, a star athlete and all-around hero, she saw a boy whose life had perhaps taken him to places that he would have been just as happy never to have seen. A boy saddled with the weight of all that he had become, whether by his choice or not.

_A/N: Thanks so much for all of your encouraging reviews! I want so badly to answer all of your questions, but I have to resist the temptation and let you discover the story for yourselves. I know some things are taking drastic turns now that the gang is all back at school, but just trust me. We have a long way to go!_


	10. Starting Over

_A/N: I was pleasantly surprised with the warm reception that Ellie got after the last chapter! It's been fun to hear how you all think she will fit into the story. But mum's the word for now. I think Harry and Ginny should have a few words with each other first, don't you?_

Chapter 10 - Starting Over

Harry and Hermione trudged into the Great Hall, dropping onto the bench on either side of Ron, who was already helping himself to a second bacon sandwich for lunch.

"How was Potions?" Ron asked, receiving non-committal grunts and shrugs in answer. "Let me guess," he said to Harry. "Malfoy was a foul git, and Snape spent the first half of class insulting you and the second half ignoring you."

"Right in one," Harry said, filling his plate with bangers 'n' mash.

Ron smiled and shook his head. "Better you than me, mate. Did he put you in partners again this year?"

Harry nodded, chewing quickly so he could answer. "I got Ellie Bridgeton. Not so bad, really."

"Who's Ellie Bridgeton?" Ron asked. Harry pointed Ellie out at the Ravenclaw table where she was happily chatting with Padma Patil. "Oh! Her? Wow, Snape must have been feeling generous to put you with a bird like that. How come I never noticed her before?"

Hermione cleared her throat loudly, reminding Ron of her presence. "Because you only had eyes for _me_, remember?" she said mockingly.

Ron grinned and leaned in to nuzzle her ear. "I remember."

"Besides," Hermione smiled, pushing him away, "she's dating Reed Barton."

"Barton?" Ron asked. "The Ravenclaw Chaser? But I thought he left last year."

"He did, but they're still together. Harry's lucky to have her for a partner. She's sharp; she's in my Arithmancy class."

"So, who's _your_ partner, then?"

"Blaise Zabini," Hermione replied evenly, bringing a spoonful of soup to her mouth.

Ron pulled a face, but before he could expound on the vileness of the Slytherins, Harry interrupted him.

"Where's Ginny? Isn't she coming to lunch?"

Ron looked around. "Dunno. Wouldn't be surprised if she's holed up in the tower. Didn't seem too keen on facing everyone when I talked to her this morning."

"Is she alright though?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "She's Ginny. She'll probably get one good hex on you and then she'll be fine."

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Ginny sat on her bed, finishing some sweets she had dug out of her bag for lunch. Her tummy rumbled with hunger, but it was nothing to the ball of tension that had been growing in the pit of her stomach all morning. Her housemates had given her curious glances all through Transfiguration, but when she begged off lunch, saying she wasn't feeling well, they had mercifully left her alone.

She stared unseeingly at the Peppermint Humbug wrapper that she twiddled in her fingers. The anger that she had felt yesterday on the train had dissipated, leaving in its place an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Why did he have to come along and muck everything up again? She had been doing just fine without him. She'd had a steady boyfriend, she was made a prefect, she'd made Chaser for Gryffindor, she was over him. Right? She was happy. Right? And all it had taken was a few lingering glances, a few tender words, and she was right back where she'd started.

_You're weak._

The voice resounded in her head loud and clear.

_You're weak and childish._

The anger burned in her chest again. She threw the wrapper aside and stood up, resolutely grabbing her schoolbag. How dare he mess with her head like this. Well, she wasn't a Weasley for nothing. She got over him once, she would do it again.

She started for the door when a tapping at the window gave her pause. An old, grey owl with molting feathers perched precariously on the ledge. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"That didn't take long," she muttered, opening the window to let in Errol, the Weasley family owl. Errol promptly collapsed onto the floor. Ginny scooped him up and laid him on her bed, untying the roll of parchment from his leg.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I just had to tell you how pleased I am to hear about you and Harry. I read the news in _Witch Weekly_ this morning. Now, I won't pretend that I wouldn't have liked to hear the news directly from you, but I understand that a mother is often the last to know these things._

_Of course, I don't believe just anything printed in _Witch Weekly, (this earned another eye-roll from Ginny) _but having watched you and Harry together at the Burrow this summer, I knew it was only a matter of time before you two would find each other. _

_I know you have been waiting so long for this, sweetheart. Hopefully, now that Harry has finally come to his senses, you can be a source of strength and comfort for each other. He needs you now, probably more than he even realizes._

_I'm so happy for you._

_Love,_

_Mum_

Ginny sank onto her bed, clutching the letter. After a moment, she dropped her head into her hands and allowed herself a good cry.

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Ginny felt a little better after that and made it through her afternoon classes with an air of normalcy. But though Colin kept trying to catch her eye while they repotted sneezewort plants across from each other in Herbology, she couldn't manage to shake the melancholy that had settled over her. She found herself next to Colin at dinner as well and jumped when he poked her in the ribs with his wand.

"If you don't smile, I'll be forced to do a Cheering Charm on you. And you know how good I am at them. You think I was born with this winning personality? No. Cheering Charms."

She laughed in spite of herself.

"That's my girl," he said, pocketing his wand and grinning at her.

Ginny smiled curiously at his choice of words. "Am I your girl now?"

"You've always been my girl. Didn't you know?" She shook her head. "Besides, no one else will put up with me."

Ginny elbowed him good-naturedly. "That's not true."

He took a few bites of his dinner while watching Ginny pick at her plate. "We should do something fun after dinner. Let's go out to the lake and play catch with the giant squid. No rocks this time, I promise."

She chucked half-heartedly and shook her head. "I think I might just go for a walk. I want to be alone for while."

Colin's smile faded and he waited a moment before saying, "Or maybe to meet someone?"

Ginny sighed and looked him straight in the eye. "So, you did believe that article then."

"I'm just asking. You haven't told me otherwise."

"I can't believe you. Does it _look_ like we're a couple?"

"Ginny, you lived with him for half the summer. I know how you feel about him. It's not outside the realm of possibility."

"Believe me, it is."

Colin turned back to his dinner. "Okay. That's all I need to know."

They finished eating in silence, and Ginny stood up to leave.

"See you later," Colin murmured.

She nodded with a small smile. He watched as she left the Great Hall and went out the front doors beyond, into the dusky evening. Then, he watched Harry get up and go out after her.

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Ginny stared out at the lake, her legs dangling over the side of the rocky cliff. She took a deep breath of cool air and closed her eyes. She had glimpsed Harry following her around the side of the castle, but didn't give any sign that she expected him to join her. The rocks crunched beneath his feet as he approached and sat down beside her.

"Hi," Harry began.

"Hi."

She didn't meet his eyes, but continued to stare fixedly at the horizon.

"How are you?" he ventured.

"How do you think?"

"I don't know." He paused. "I've really messed things up, haven't I?"

Ginny acquiesced her cold demeanor with a shrug. "I could say the same to you."

"It's not your fault. You were just trying to stand up for me. I'm sorry I yelled at you. But I think you misunderstood what I said on the train."

"No, I think I understood just fine."

Harry knew that she didn't understand just fine, but he didn't know how to get through to her.

"So, you know that this is about Hermione, then?"

Ginny's head finally jerked toward him, and he saw the look of hurt flash across her eyes.

"Harry, if you wanted Hermione to be your girlfriend, you're a bit late, don't you think?"

"What? No! That's not what I meant." He buried his head in his hands. "I'm awful at this."

"Well, what is it about then?"

Harry rested his forearms on his knees and stared at his open palms. "Do you remember during the Triwizard Tournament when Rita Skeeter wrote that story about Hermione and me being a couple?"

"Yes."

"And do you remember what happened to her after it came out?"

Ginny frowned. "No."

"She was flooded with hate post. Total strangers said awful things about her and even sent her things that could have been really harmful. All because she was linked with me."

Ginny remembered now. "But that was because they thought she was cheating on you with Viktor. I don't have a boyfriend, no one will think that about me."

"But what if you _did_ want to have a boyfriend? Then what would happen?" He straightened up and looked her in the eye. "The reason I don't want people thinking you're my girlfriend is because I couldn't stand it if what happened to Hermione happened to you, too. This is all my bloody fault, and you don't deserve it. Nobody does, but especially not you. You're too important to me to be reduced to a headline. And I hate it that you think I would say something so hurtful to you. I know how you feel about me, and I'm sorry that I can't give that back to you, but I would never throw it in your face like that."

Ginny felt the blood rise in her cheeks. What Harry said made sense, and she had been acting horribly toward him. "I'm sorry. You were so angry… I just assumed it was because of what happened under the tree at the Burrow."

"No. I felt bad about that, but I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at those damned reporters. I thought… I thought maybe you would sense that."

Ginny shook her head. "Anger is anger, no matter where it's coming from. I told you before, I can't read minds. Sometimes, I wish I could. Especially yours."

Harry reached out and took her hand. "You don't need to read my mind. Just ask me and I'll tell you."

She looked into the depths of his eyes, trying to see past them. "What are you thinking now?"

"I still want us to be friends. Friends like we were at the Burrow. Nothing has changed for me. But if this is going to be too hard for you, then you need to tell me now. Because the last thing I want is for you to be miserable because of me."

He held his breath and waited for her answer. The other last thing he wanted was to lose her, to lose the peace he felt when he was around her. He had been on edge all day at the thought of it. But he couldn't tell her that; this had to be her decision.

Ginny dropped his hand and brought her hands to her face, running them over her forehead and cheeks and finally settling them over her mouth. She looked at him sideways. "Can we just pretend this whole episode didn't happen?"

He smiled in relief. "Absolutely."

"I'd like that," she breathed, relieved that the tension was finally broken.

He wanted to hug her but knew that he couldn't. So he settled instead for pushing his shoulder playfully into hers. She grinned and punched him lightly on the leg. They fell into a slight fit of the giggles before recovering themselves.

The sun had just sunk below the horizon, casting the sky in dark purple. "You coming in?" Harry asked.

"In a minute. I like to watch the stars come out."

"Want me to wait with you?"

"No, go ahead. I'll be right in."

Harry looked over the edge of the cliff as he stood up, aware for the first time of how high up they actually were. "Like living dangerously, do you?"

"No, that's your department. I just like being on the edge."

He smirked at her and she smirked back.

"'Night, Gin."

"'Night."

He left her alone and she turned to the sky, watching the first stars begin to twinkle through the haze of night. She breathed deeply again.

_You can do this, Ginny. You can do this._

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The remainder of the week passed quickly as the students of Hogwarts settled in to the new year. Hermione, already knee-deep in books and parchments, dove into juggling her NEWT preparation and Head Girl duties (and a boyfriend who was interested in neither) with the eagerness and enthusiasm that she felt at the beginning of every school year. Ginny, relieved that she and Harry were once again on even footing, was grateful for the familiar comforts of school routine and quiet evenings with her friends by the common room fire. And Ron and Harry, satisfied with the state of their lives for the moment, turned their thoughts toward Quidditch.

"Ron, want to come down to Madam Hooch's with me and book the pitch for tryouts?" Harry asked at Friday lunch. "We need to get a new Chaser soon if we're going to train them before the first match."

As they walked out of the front doors into the bright afternoon sun, Harry realized that he hadn't really spent any one-on-one time with Ron lately, away from the girls. It was nice. They chatted about nothing in particular until they saw a tall blonde figure emerging from the Quidditch shed.

When they drew nearer, Harry and Draco exchanged curt nods.

"Potter," said Draco, pointedly ignoring Ron.

"Malfoy," Harry returned. "I assume you're down here for the same reason I am. That must mean they've handed you the undeserved title of Slytherin Captain as well as Head Boy."

"Right, because no one could possibly earn anything or be worthy of some recognition around here except for _you_," Draco snapped.

"The only thing you've ever earned, Malfoy, is the distinction of being the biggest prat Hogwarts has ever seen," Ron cut in.

Draco looked at him disinterestedly. "I don't remember Granger saying you could speak to me."

Ron admirably didn't take the bait. "We'll see how full of yourself you are when we mop your sorry arse off the Quidditch field."

"Not this year, boys," he said with a malevolent gleam in his eye. "Not this year." He walked away from them and up the hill with a smug confidence.

"What did he mean by that?" Ron wanted to know.

"He didn't mean anything," said Harry, yanking open the door to the shed. "Ignore him. He's got nothing."

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Harry looked down the row of the five Gryffindors who had turned out for the Chaser tryout. Three boys and two girls, all third and fourth years. Harry didn't even know their names, and he had certainly never seen any of them fly. This was going to have to be a gut call.

"Right," he called. "Everyone up. Take three laps around the pitch so I can see you fly, then come back down."

They obeyed instantly and Harry strode over to stand with Ginny and Sean Jacobs, who had come to drill the new recruits.

"You know who that is, don't you?" Ginny asked, pointing to a boy in a red shirt zooming around the pitch.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Tom Wood," she said with a sly smile. "He's Oliver's cousin."

"Really?" Harry said, his interest piqued. "Who's that girl leading the pack?" he asked, pointing to a blonde girl who was fast outstripping the others.

"Sophie Townsend. I think she's a fourth year," Ginny said.

"Hmmm, she's a good flier. Okay, you two get up there and I'll send them up one at a time. Passing first, then let them shoot against Ron."

After all the candidates had a turn to show what they were made of, Harry let them go and gathered the team in the locker room.

"Sean, what do you think?" he began.

"I like Sophie. She's a good flyer," Sean said, and the other boys on the team nodded their agreement.

Harry turned to Ginny, who was sitting next to him. "How about you?"

"I think Tom Wood," she said. "He has a stronger arm."

"No way. Sophie is faster," said Ron, "and her shots were more on target."

Ginny shook her head. "She's faster, but she doesn't look at what's going on around her. Tom is a better passer."

"She can improve that with practice," Harry said. The team waited while he thought silently for a minute. "Wood is a strong choice, but I think I'm going to go with Sophie." Everyone nodded their agreement, accepting his decision as captain. He turned to Ginny. "That okay with you?"

Ginny nodded. "No, it's fine. She's good, she'll be fine."

Harry dismissed the team and they drifted in different directions.

"Can you handle the equipment?" Ron asked, "I want to shower before I have to meet Hermione for dinner."

"I'll help him," Ginny volunteered.

Ron waved and left. They put the gear away quickly and started together up the lawn toward the castle.

"I really did think Sophie was better," Harry said.

"I know. You don't have to justify yourself to me, Harry. She'll be great."

"I mean, I'd love to have Oliver's cousin on the team, but she was really the better flyer," he continued.

Ginny smirked. "And easier on the eyes, too."

Harry shot her a sideways glance. "You know that's not why I picked her."

Ginny raised her chin and gave him a shrewd look. "Mmm hmm."

Harry walked on in silence, but the crease in his brow became more pronounced with each step. "You don't really think that, do you?" he finally said.

She grinned. "No. I almost had you though." She poked him in the ribs, and he caught her hand and tugged at it playfully. She laughed and he smiled.

Ginny noticed the first year Gryffindor girls observing them from where they sat together under a tree by the lake. She waved to them and they all dissolved into giggles.

Harry looked around. "What's that all about?"

"Oh, you've got quite a fan club in the first years' room, let me tell you. See that girl with the ponytail? That's Miranda Hopkirk."

"Hopkirk? You don't mean…"

Ginny nodded. "Mafalda Hopkirk's granddaughter. She knows _all _about you."

Harry snorted. "Brilliant. I guess it's a good thing I'm not underage anymore."

"Not that that ever stopped you from getting into trouble," Ginny smirked. "Oh, but you should have seen those two little blonde girls. They were so sweet. They didn't even know who you were; they're both Muggle-borns."

"Really? Well, that's refreshing. Too bad it was so short-lived," he said ruefully, casting another glance at the girls whose eyes were still following his every movement.

Ginny stopped walking and frowned. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Harry asked, stopping as well.

"Why are you so bitter toward people who just want show that they like you and admire you? People know who you are, it's not as if you can just ignore them."

"I didn't ask to be famous. I didn't ask for _this_," he said, pushing up his fringe to reveal his scar.

"Harry, when are you going to stop using that as an excuse?"

"It's not an excuse, it's…"

"Wave to them."

"What?"

"Wave to the girls over there and just watch what happens."

Harry stared into Ginny's eyes, mildly annoyed, but he saw that she wouldn't budge. He forced a smile and waved to the girls. They giggled again, hiding their faces in embarrassment.

"See? You just made their day."

"But I didn't do anything."

"You didn't have to. You make people happy. You make them feel safe. That's quite something, you know. Merlin knows, we could all use a little extra happiness these days."

"Oh, so now it's my job to make sure everyone feels happy and safe, as well?" Harry snapped.

"No. That just happens whether you want it to or not." Ginny smiled softly at his frustration, knowing how much he hated unwanted attention. She moved a step closer to him and raised her hand to brush aside his fringe. Her eyes lingered over his scar. "You are never not going to be Harry Potter. I know you wish it, but it will never happen. Be proud of who you are."

Harry stared at her in silence, and he saw a brief glimpse of himself through her eyes. She dropped her hand and smiled, then turned and walked up the stairs into the castle.

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Two weeks into the start of term, Harry and Hermione sat at a table in the common room working on their Concealment Charms essays for Professor Flitwick. With NEWTs coming up, they were required to know both the theory and execution of some very difficult charms, and Harry needed practice. Curses and defensive hexes were one thing, but Charms work required a slightly different mindset, one of concentration and visualization rather than quick reflexes and raw determination.

Hermione frowned and glanced at the empty chair next to her. Ron had been working with them, but when it became apparent that he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, she had shooed him away for a nap before dinner. She was hoping they could have practiced the charm on each other a bit. Hermione was nothing if not practical, and working on schoolwork together was a perfect way to spend time with him and still get things done, she thought. And Ron always did better with the practical side of things than the theories. Oh well, she sighed, she'd have to catch him after dinner.

"Alright Hermione, I think I've got this now," Harry said, laying aside his quill and picking up his parchment. "The Purloin Charm..."

Hermione tapped her quill on her chin thoughtfully as he read out what he had written. "That sounds more like a Disillusionment Charm."

"Well, yeah, aren't they kind of the same?" Harry's shoulders sagged.

"Not really. The Disillusionment Charm acts like a camouflage, but you can still see the shape of the object or person that it has been cast on. The Purloin Charm is an optical illusion. When another person looks at the object you've charmed, they will only see what they expect to see. You're hiding it in plain sight as it were."

"But isn't that Transfiguration?"

"No, you're not actually turning the object into something else, you're only making it _appear_ to be something else to the viewer. It could appear to be different things to different people I suppose, depending on what they might be expecting to see."

"Oh! Is this like the wards that are up around Hogwarts so that Muggles can't see it? I'm supposed to conceal it by making it appear to be something else that would not arouse suspicion?"

"Exactly! The wards around magical buildings like Hogwarts are more advanced than the Purloin Charm, but it's the same idea. Here, let's try it."

Hermione stood up and motioned for Harry to stand against the wall. She looked around to make sure no one was watching them, then pointed her wand at Harry and softly said, "_Purlonius."_ The air around Harry shimmered and to Hermione, he appeared to be translucent. Satisfied that she had cast the spell correctly, she looked around the common room and spied Ginny coming through the portrait hole into the room.

"Ginny, can you help me for a second?" she asked.

Ginny looked up and walked over to stand beside her. "Sure, what's up?"

"I'm experimenting with something. Can you look at the wall over there and tell me what you see?"

Ginny looked at the space between the large desk and the bay window where Hermione was pointing. She looked back at Hermione, confused.

"What am I _supposed_ to see?"

"Just tell me what you see."

"Uh, I see a chair with a green and blue striped blanket draped over the arm against the wall. Funny, I never noticed that chair before."

Hermione looked to where Harry was still shimmering, standing directly where Ginny had indicated the chair to be. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows. He looked duly impressed.

Hermione turned to thank Ginny when she noticed a peculiar look on her friend's face. "What is it?"

Ginny smiled. "It's nothing. It's just that Harry has a shirt that's just the same pattern as that blanket. I've always loved it, the way it brings out his eyes."

It was, in fact, the very shirt that Harry was currently wearing. He raised his eyebrows at Hermione, and she quickly understood his discomfort.

"Okay!" she said a bit too loudly. "Thanks, Ginny, that was quite helpful."

Ginny shrugged and said, "Sure," and continued up the stairs to her room.

Hermione waved her wand and said, "_Finite Purlonius,"_ and Harry became visible once again. She noted the slight flush in his cheeks, but let it pass without comment.

"That was brilliant!" he smiled.

"Thank you. Alright, now you try."

Hermione worked with him for the next several minutes until he could cast a mildly convincing charm, though his illusions were still a bit fuzzy around the edges.

"Thanks, I understand that much better now."

Hermione patted his arm. "Anytime. I just wish Ron would have been here. He needs more help than you. I guess I'll have to work with him later."

Harry caught her arm and smiled down at her. "I've missed you, you know."

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of amusement and incomprehension. "You see me all the time."

"But you're always with Ron."

Harry circled her playfully with his arms. He had missed being close like this with her since she and Ron had gotten together. She was Ron's now, and he wasn't sure where he fit into the picture. He tickled her and she squealed and wriggled.

"Hands off my girlfriend, Potter," he heard a gruff voice say behind him. They turned to see Ron leaning against the wall at the bottom of the boys' stairs, his arms folded, regarding them with a mischievous grin.

Harry played along. He tightened his grip on Hermione and spun her toward the wall, pinning her against it. "No you can't have her, she's mine."

Hermione laughed and peeked through Harry's arms at Ron. "Oh, honestly," she swatted at Harry. She could feel his body shake as he chuckled.

Ron reached into his robes and took out his wand. "I reckon we'll have to duel for her then," he grinned.

"You're on," said Harry, loosening his grip on Hermione and pulling out his own wand as she grabbed onto his shirt.

"Harry…" she said with a tone of warning.

He turned to her with a glint in his eye. "I'm not going to hurt him."

She narrowed her eyes for a moment before shaking her head and sighing, "Boys," and let go of him.

Everyone in the common room was watching them now, backing up to give them space. They faced each other, raising their wands, doing their best to stare each other down but unable to take themselves seriously.

"Hermione, count down," Ron said without taking his eyes off Harry.

Hermione continued to shake her head in disbelief at their display, but finally said in a resigned voice, "Three-two-one-go."

Harry let fly the Jelly-Legs Jinx first, causing Ron to stumble on wobbly legs but not before he shouted "_Rictusempra!"_ at Harry. The Tickling Charm hit Harry hard in the chest, causing him to suck in his breath before bursting with laughter. Both boys fell to the floor. Harry's laugh was so infectious that Ron started laughing with him, even while his legs wobbled uncontrollably. The others in the room were cheering. Ginny, who had been coming down from her room when the commotion started, watched the exchange from the bottom of the stairs with an amused and interested look on her face. She caught Hermione's eye and shook her head sympathetically.

Hermione let them roll on the floor for half a minute before she gave in to the laughter and pulled out her wand to end the spells on them, shouting, "Oh for heaven's sake, _Finite Incantatem_, both of you!"

Ron recovered first and offered a hand to help Harry up. The others in the room gradually resumed their activities as the boys clapped each other on the shoulders good-naturedly while Hermione stepped between them, trying to give them a stern look and failing miserably.

"You two are the most…"

Ron silenced her by pulling her tightly to his chest. She snuggled in to him, and they both turned to smile at Harry. "Looks like I've won," said Ron triumphantly.

Harry threw up his hands in mock defeat. "Go on, take her then. I've lost her," he smiled. He wandered back over to the table where they had been working and sat down, still chuckling, pulling his essay toward him again. He didn't see Hermione's thoughtful gaze follow him.

"Fancy a walk around the lake?" asked Ron, turning her attention back to him.

"Oh," she said, biting her lip and looking toward the table. "I was really hoping to finish that essay."

Ron turned her chin toward him and held her eyes, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Can we work on them later?" she asked apologetically.

"Only if you promise not to talk about it until then," Ron smiled.

Hermione pinched his ribs playfully. "Alright, just let me run my things up to my room." She gathered her books and parchments from the table and disappeared up the stairs, reappearing a moment later. She took Ron's hand and walked toward the portrait hole when she suddenly thought better of it and stopped.

"Wait for me just a second, alright?" she whispered to Ron. He nodded and leaned against the wall. Hermione walked purposefully over to Harry's table and sat lightly on the edge, causing him to look up at her. She put her hand over his and stared intently into his eyes.

"You haven't lost me. You know that, right?" she said quietly.

He met her eyes, marveling at how she could always cut right to the heart of the matter. He glanced at Ron, waiting by the wall, before turning back to her with a reassuring smile. "I know. Go on."

She considered him for another moment before squeezing his hand and leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. As she walked away, Harry caught Ron's eye. They shared a moment of understanding, as only best friends could, and Harry felt the change between the three of them in a way he hadn't before. As the portrait hole closed behind them, he suddenly felt very alone.

His eyes traveled across the room and unexpectedly met Ginny, who had not moved from her spot on the stairs. He became acutely aware that she had witnessed the exchange between him and Hermione, and half-expected her to cast and angry glare at him. But instead, she was looking at him thoughtfully, as if she knew what he was feeling. In fact, he realized, she probably _did_ know what he was feeling. But instead of coming over to comfort him, which he very much wanted her to do, she gave him a small smile and turned up the stairs, back to her room.

Unable to concentrate any longer, Harry tossed aside his quill, gathered up his books and parchment, and climbed the stairs to his own room. He hoped to find one of his other housemates, wanting to reach out to someone, anyone. But no one was there.


	11. In the Village

Chapter 11 - In the Village

It was on a cool day at the end of September that the Gryffindor Quidditch team emerged through the portrait hole after a particularly grueling practice to find a crowd around the common room bulletin board.

"Ooh, is it Hogsmeade?" Sophie asked, craning her neck to see as Hermione emerged from the pressing third and fourth years, looking hassled.

"Honestly, you'd think buying sweets at Honeydukes was a once-in-a-lifetime event. They couldn't even wait until I got the notice up before they were all crushing in on me."

"When is it?" Ginny asked.

"Tomorrow," Hermione said, falling into an armchair.

"Tomorrow? Oh no!" Sophie exclaimed in a defeated tone.

All eyes turned to Harry, who had just scheduled another practice for the next day. Harry, in turn, rounded on Hermione.

"Why did you wait 'til the last minute to post it? We need to practice tomorrow. Our first match against Slytherin is only a week away!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So sorry for the inconvenience. Guess I should run all of my Head Girl duties by you first from now on." She lowered her voice and motioned for Harry and Ron to come closer. "Professor Dumbledore didn't think it was a good idea to put out the dates too early. We don't want anyone _outside_ the castle getting wind that there will be a large mass of unprotected students milling around Hogsmeade. So, Malfoy and I agreed to hold the announcement until today. And the hours will be restricted. Students won't be allowed out until eleven o'clock and back by five."

Ron creased his brow. "Did the words 'Malfoy' and 'agree' just come out of your mouth in the same sentence?"

Harry straightened up and turned back to his waiting team.

"Alright, it looks like we can't leave for Hogsmeade until eleven. So, we're going to practice right after breakfast for a couple hours before we go. I want you all at the pitch at eight o'clock sharp."

"Oh, thank you, Harry!" Sophie jumped up and down excitedly and bounced off to join her friends at the board.

Harry looked to Ginny and raised an eyebrow. She smiled.

"She's just a fourth year," Ginny said, taking a step closer to him. "Don't you remember how excited we used to be to go to Hogsmeade?"

Harry's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I guess. But listen, I want you and Sean to work her hard tomorrow. She's got to learn to keep that Quaffle tight into her. She's leaving herself wide open for…"

"Harry, she'll be fine," Ginny interrupted, shaking him gently by the shoulders. His hair was still windswept from practice and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek that she had to fight the urge to wipe off. "She did much better at passing today, and don't forget Malfoy has to train his new Chasers as well. We'll get her into shape, don't worry."

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know you will." He took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm going to get cleaned up. Want to wait for me and we'll go down to dinner?"

"Sure," she said. She watched him climb the boys' stairs and was about to head up to her own room when she became aware that Ron and Hermione were having a heated discussion by the fireplace.

"I'm not going to leave him by himself all day," Hermione was whispering. "What if something happens?"

"What's going to happen?" Ron hissed back. "He doesn't need a babysitter, Hermione. And you and I haven't spent any time alone in weeks."

"Ron, there's a _war_ going on. Harry's not a target, he's _the_ target. Malfoy and I had to beg Dumbledore to let us have Hogsmeade weekends at all, and I promised him that I wouldn't leave Harry alone where he might be vulnerable."

"Hermione, there haven't been any attacks for months. You can't shield Harry from everything. What about us?"

"I'll be with you all day! I just don't want to leave him alone." She crossed her arms to signal that she was through talking about it. Ron threw up his arms and grabbed his broom roughly, brushing past Ginny as he headed to his room.

Hermione stood impatiently in front of the fire for a moment, but then her shoulders sagged and she rubbed her forehead, looking suddenly tired. Ginny slipped quietly away to wash up before dinner.

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After dinner, where Harry had discussed Quidditch with Ron and Ginny, and Hermione had been uncharacteristically quiet, Ginny settled in with her Herbology textbook in front of the fire. But she had only gotten through a few pages when a blonde head popped around the corner of her chair.

"Hey," Colin smiled.

"Hi."

"How are you?"

Ginny looked at him curiously. "Good. Just reading. Why?"

Colin crouched by the side of her chair and rested his elbows on the armrest. "What are you up to tomorrow?"

"Um, Harry called a practice for after breakfast, and then I'm going to Hogsmeade."

"Want to go with me? To Hogsmeade?"

Ginny closed her finger in her book and turned to look at him fully. "I always go with you."

"I mean, just you and me."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Alone?"

"Yeah."

An unexpected shiver ran up her spine. "Are you… asking me out?"

Colin lowered his eyes and looked almost embarrassed. "No, I just thought maybe you could use a day away from… things."

His eyes flickered to his left, and Ginny glanced over his shoulder to see Harry playing chess with Ron in the corner. Harry had been watching them, but when Ginny's eyes met his, he dropped his gaze to the chessboard again and seemed to become very interested in his knight.

She looked back at Colin's expectant face and felt a warm rush of gratitude. "Yes. That would be lovely. Thanks."

"What are friends for?" He gave her a lopsided smile and stood to leave.

Ginny smiled to herself, lost in thought for a few minutes before deciding to give up on her reading for the night. She stood and made her way to the stairs, not noticing the pair of green eyes that followed her across the room.

Her roommates were busy getting ready for bed when she walked in.

"Ginny!" said Maura excitedly. "We were just talking about Hogsmeade. I think we should all go to Madam Puddifoot's for tea. Just the girls. We can make fun of all the couples. Want to come?"

Ginny turned to Abby, the only one of them who currently had a boyfriend. "You're in on this, too?"

"Oh," said Abby dismissively, "Sean can fend for himself for an hour. Come on, it will be fun. We never do anything just the four of us."

Ginny laughed. "Tempting, but no. Colin just asked if we could spend the day together, so I'm going to go around with him."

All activity in the room stopped, and Maura and Anna raised their eyebrows at each other.

"Did he finally ask you out?" Maura asked breathlessly.

"What? No," Ginny said. "He was just being nice. He knows I've had a lot on my mind lately. He's just being a good friend."

Anna flopped onto her bed. "Ginny, don't be daft. Colin's been waiting for you for ages. You must know that he fancies you."

Ginny screwed up her face, wondering for a moment if they could be right, but then deciding that no, they couldn't. "No he doesn't."

Maura strode over and stood in front of Ginny, looking at her like she was a lost puppy who just needed to be shown the way home. "Sweetie, he does. We all know it. You just can't see it because of that huge thing in your eye."

Ginny reached up and touched her cheek. "What thing?"

"_Harry_." Maura stopped any retort Ginny had been about to make with a knowing arch of her eyebrow. "Don't throw away what's right in front of you for something you can't have."

Ginny looked at Maura in shock for a moment before scowling, "Oh, go to bed."

But as she lay in bed later under the cover of darkness, the soft moonlight shining through her window, she couldn't help but think that her friends were right. Colin had always been attentive to her, had always made her feel good and desirable. And his friendship was already etched into a large part of her heart. She loved Harry, but she couldn't dwell on him forever. Maybe opening herself up to someone who knew her and liked her might not be such a bad thing after all.

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The Gryffindors milled around the common room late the next morning, preparing to head to the Entrance Hall. Ron and Hermione bundled themselves in their cloaks against the brisk autumn day. They beckoned to Harry, who was leaning against the back of the couch, chatting with Ginny.

"I guess they're ready," he said, gesturing toward the portrait hole.

"Okay," Ginny smiled in parting.

Harry took a few steps, but turned around when he realized she wasn't following.

"Are you… aren't you coming?" he asked.

"Oh," Ginny stammered, slightly flustered. "No, I'm just…"

"Ready?" Colin appeared at the bottom of the stairs, cloak in hand, smiling at Ginny.

She took in a visible breath and nodded, glancing at Harry. A look of comprehension dawned across his face, and he forced a smile, nodding to her.

"Have fun," he said, lifting his hand in a small wave.

"You too," she replied as Colin helped her on with her cloak. She didn't realize that her gaze had followed Harry out of the portrait hole until she felt Colin's breath on her ear.

"Just you and me today, right?" he spoke softly.

She turned and met his eyes, which were giving her a hopeful but somewhat disbelieving look. She nodded determinedly and fastened the clasp at her neck. "Right."

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Harry, Ron and Hermione went straightaway to the Three Broomsticks for an early lunch. Hermione thought it best if they avoided the lunchtime rush, and the boys, fresh from practice, were too hungry to disagree.

As they sipped their butterbeers and waited for their food, Hermione glanced out the window several times and Harry noticed that she kept fingering her wand, which lay on the table in front of her.

"Hermione," he asked, "what's wrong? Why do you keep looking out the window?"

Ron set his bottle down with a _thunk_ and leaned forward on his elbows, speaking in a voice of affected concern. "Yeah, Hermione, why don't you tell Harry what's wrong?"

She shot Ron an exasperated glare before speaking to Harry. "I'm just, you know, keeping an eye on things." Ron snorted and shook his head, but Hermione continued. "Professor Dumbledore asked if we would be especially careful today. We want to make sure everyone makes it back without any incidents."

Harry turned a confused look to Ron, then back to Hermione. "What sort of incidents?"

"You know, we just want to be prepared. If there was an attack on Hogsmeade with all these students milling about…"

Harry choked on his butterbeer. "An _attack_? Hermione, I think Voldemort's got bigger plans than taking out a few third years in Honeydukes. Besides, I haven't felt anything in my scar for a while now. You're being paranoid."

He noted the smug look that Ron cast across the table and Hermione's huffy silence in reply. But far from feeling smug himself, Harry felt an irritation begin to rise in him. Since they had been back at school, he had had only one private meeting with Dumbledore, who had nothing of interest to tell him about Voldemort's whereabouts or activities. After what had happened in the past, he'd thought that he could trust Dumbledore to share information with him. And yet now he was asking Hermione to "keep an eye" on things? Hermione might be Head Girl, but _he _was the one Voldemort was after. If Dumbledore felt there might be danger in Hogsmeade, why keep him in the dark? Then something Hermione had said struck him.

"Who's _we_ anyway?" he snapped.

Hermione looked up from her plate of fish and chips, which had just arrived, and shook some vinegar onto her food before answering, "Me and Malfoy."

Harry looked at her, incredulous. "Are you serious? Hermione, if anyone would know of an attack planned for today, it would probably be Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head. "Malfoy was just as willing as I was to go along with Dumbledore. You should have heard him arguing all the reasons that we shouldn't cancel Hogsmeade weekends this year."

"So, he _wanted_ us all out here today?" Ron said knowingly. "All the more reason to suspect him."

"Oh Ron, bugger off," she said earnestly, biting into a chip. "I don't have any reason to believe that he's in Voldemort's inner circle or knows any more than we do. We thought he was the Heir of Slytherin once, remember? And we were wrong about that."

"Please tell me you are _not_ defending Malfoy," Ron said, the tips of his ears turning red.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Of course not. He's an insufferable arse and I loathe him. But he's not a Death Eater."

Harry dug into his fish and tuned out his friends, whose bickering had not let up as much as he would have liked since they had gotten together. The lapses between the fights were longer, but it was there just the same.

The door opened and a young couple walked in. He recognized Ellie Bridgeton's dark hair and with her was Reed Barton, whom he knew from years of playing Quidditch against Ravenclaw. Reed must have been visiting for the day. Ellie smiled and waved in his direction, and he exchanged nods with Reed before they settled at a cozy table for two in the far corner.

Outside, another couple was making their way to the Three Broomsticks for lunch, but stopped short when they reached the door.

"Let's not eat here," Colin said, turning around suddenly and startling Ginny. He had seen Harry through the window and was doing everything he could to make sure Ginny had a Harry-free day.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Let's try something different, we always eat here. How about Madam Puddifoot's?"

"Oh, no, I think we want to steer clear of there," Ginny said with a chuckle. "The girls are planning a 'heckling tea', and I don't want to get caught in the crossfire."

Colin looked up and down the street with a frown on his face. "The Hog's Head?" Ginny wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Well, let's just walk a bit more then. I'm not really hungry yet anyway."

He took her arm and set off at a brisk walk. Ginny hurried to keep up with him, wondering why the Three Broomsticks had suddenly become so unappetizing.

After a few minutes of moving from one storefront to the next, they found themselves in front of Silas Green's Grocery, a small shop with plate glass windows sporting adverts for Goat Cheese, Ox Tongue, and 10 Knuts off your next purchase of Fortescue's Ice Cream.

Ginny peered in the window. "We could get something to eat here, I suppose…"

"Do you want to?" he asked. "We've never done that before."

They pushed open the door and were surrounded by the scent of fresh baked bread and ripe fruit. It smelled delicious.

Colin's face lit up as he looked around. "This might be kind of fun! We could each get a few things and then go find somewhere to have a sort of picnic. What do you think?"

Ginny chuckled at his enthusiasm and nodded. Several minutes later, they piled their purchases onto the counter in front of an old wizard who eyed them with an amused look. A small loaf of bread, a block of sharp cheese, one peach, one apple, two flasks of pumpkin juice, and Chocolate Frogs for dessert. After splitting the cost of the food, they set off down the street, their bags swinging between them.

"Where shall we go?" Ginny asked, excited at the prospect of finding someplace they'd never been before.

Colin stopped and looked around at the narrow streets and shops crowded together. His eyes traveled beyond the shops and houses to a grassy hill that rose above the trees at the edge of town. He could just make out a few grazing sheep dotting the hillside. Ginny followed his gaze.

"Up there?" she asked, surprised.

"Do you think we could make it that far?"

"Why not?"

They grinned at each other and set off down the street, nipping through alleyways and side streets until they found themselves at the base of the hill.

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Harry picked through the glass jars at Honeydukes, filling his bag with an assortment of chocolates and sweets.

"You almost ready?" Ron asked, coming up behind him with a sugar quill already planted in his mouth. "I want to get to Zonko's while everyone else is still at lunch."

While Harry paid for his things, Hermione stood at the front door waiting for them. She checked her watch impatiently and looked out the window again, scanning the street for anything out of the ordinary. Something was approaching from the far end of the street, but it was not at all what she had expected. Her eyes narrowed.

"No," she said under her breath. "You can't be serious." She wheeled around and hurried to where Ron and Harry were gathering up their bags.

"You can't go outside," she whispered, placing a hand on Harry's arm.

Harry started at her urgent tone. "Why, what's going on?"

"Rita Skeeter is coming this way and she's got a photographer with her."

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, for the love of…"

"I think you should go," Hermione said. "Go back to the castle. You can sneak out through the… you know." She gestured to the door behind the counter that led to the basement and a secret passageway back to Hogwarts that Harry had discovered a few years before by way of the Marauder's Map.

"No!" Ron hissed. "He doesn't need to go running every time a reporter comes around." He turned to Harry. "Come on. We can dodge her. You don't want to sit in the castle all afternoon."

Hermione frowned. "Do you really want to deal with Rita today? Because if you do, I can help you. She knows she can't mess with me."

Harry's shoulders tensed and he pressed his lips into a thin line. He was already irritable and annoyed, and having to run away from reporters like a fugitive was doing nothing to improve his mood. He thought back to when Dumbledore had said there would be times when it might be advantageous to cooperate with the press. But this was not one of those times. Today, he felt it would definitely be better to remain invisible.

He shook his head and looked apologetically at Ron. "I'll see you later."

He made his way to the edge of the counter and ducked down. When he was sure the witch who had rung up his sweets was busy with other customers, he scooted through the doorway and down the stairs.

At that moment, the bell on the front door tinkled and Rita Skeeter entered the shop, resplendent in a Scottish tartan walking robe and matching tam-o'-shanter. She spotted Ron and Hermione at once and strode over to them with a silky smile.

"Hermione Granger! How lovely to see you again. And Ron Weasley! Imagine catching you both here at the same time."

But Hermione had no patience for her false sincerity. "What are you doing here, Rita?" she asked, turning to browse through the candy shelves and doing her best to appear uninterested.

"What I do best, of course. Reporting."

"On…?"

"Well, first Hogsmeade weekend… students roaming about freely in wartime… Dumbledore is making quite a statement, don't you think? Speaking of statements," she said, tapping the end of her quill against her chin, "I was hoping to have a word with Harry. Is he nearby, just in the back room perhaps?" She craned her neck around the shop.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione said briskly. "He's not with us today."

Rita raised her plucked eyebrows. "Really? I was under the impression that the three of you were joined at the hip. Did he have pressing matters to attend to at the castle?"

"I didn't say he was at the castle, I just said he wasn't with us. I don't know where he is."

Rita turned her attention to Ron, who was pretending to be very interested in a box of Acid Pops. "Or maybe he's with your sister? That was a lovely little piece on them; I'm only sorry I didn't write it myself."

Ron turned and felt his cheeks grow hot. He was glad he was finally tall enough to look down his nose at Rita. "You leave my sister out of it."

Hermione stepped quickly in between them and pressed her lips into a smile. "Goodbye, Rita. Don't overstay your welcome. Oh wait, you already have."

Rita watched as Hermione bustled Ron out of the store. "Well," she smirked to the photographer who had been waiting obediently behind her, "I think I've had enough of Hogsmeade for now. Let's go see what the Ministry has made a mess of today." And with a crack, they Disapparated.

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Colin and Ginny found a narrow footpath and followed it through the trees, up the hill, along a stream, and finally into a grassy field overlooking the village. Ginny turned and looked out over the landscape, her cheeks flushed from the climb. She breathed in the crisp air.

"It's beautiful up here," she smiled. Across the lake she could see the towers of Hogwarts shining in the sun, and the small dots of her schoolmates scurrying around the village below. She bent to sit down on the grass.

"Wait!" Colin yelled, causing her to jump up again.

"What?" she said, looking at the ground around her, thinking she had been about to sit on something.

"We should have a blanket," he said, digging out his wand.

Ginny laughed in relief. "Oh, I thought it was something serious."

"It is," Colin said with mock seriousness. "You can't have a proper picnic without a blanket."

"I see. Um… you're not going to try to conjure one, are you? Because the last time you tried to conjure something, you nearly gave Professor McGonagall a black eye," she said, backing away.

Colin rolled his eyes. "I told you, that was just a fluke! I couldn't control where the chair was going to appear." Ginny stifled a giggle. "Besides, I've been practicing. Watch."

He waved his wand over the ground and said, "_Conjurus._" A small yellow blanket about the size of a bath towel appeared on the ground.

"Hmm," Ginny hummed. "Well, at least it ended up where you wanted it."

"Alright, just wait." Colin pointed his wand at the blanket again. "_Engorgio._"

The blanket started expanding in size, but apparently didn't know where to stop. When it reached Ginny's feet, she yelped and backed away further. "Colin!"

"_Reducio!"_ Colin yelled, now laughing along with Ginny at the absurdity of it all. The blanket shrank back down to its original bath towel size. "Well," he sighed, "looks like that's the best I can do."

Ginny thought she probably could have conjured a more convincing blanket, but not wanting to hurt Colin's feelings, she gamely sat on the edge of the soft fabric and motioned for him to sit beside her. Their shoulders bumped together as they rummaged through their bags of food.

"Mmm," Ginny sighed, taking a bite of bread and pulling her knees up to her chest. "This is nice."

He looked down at her and smiled.

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Harry stormed through the common room and startled a group of first years playing Gobstones in front of the fire. He threw open the door to his room and flung his Honeydukes bag against the headboard of his four-poster, pacing angrily around the room.

_Rita Skeeter. Unbelievable. What's she going to do, write a feature about what kind of sweets I eat now? It's not like she could get any _real_ information out of me, not while Hermione is Dumbledore's right-hand girl. And what is with Hermione, anyway? I don't need her to tell me how to keep out of danger. Where was she when I was fighting Voldemort on my own? He doesn't care about Hogsmeade. _I'm_ the one he wants. And where the hell is he? Doesn't he see me? Doesn't he see that I'm right here?_

Harry stopped in the middle of the room and squeezed his eyes tight, forcing all his anger to the surface. Occlumency training had made the shields around his mind second nature to him, but he let them down now and reached out. It was dangerous, he knew, but he was beyond caring.

"Come on, you snake. Come and get me. Are you afraid of me now? You know I'm the only one who can defeat you, so you run away and kill defenseless Muggle-borns for sport? Coward. Come and get _me._"

But he felt nothing. No snake rising within him, no visions of Voldemort or where he might be, only his own anger and frustration. His breathing was ragged now and his hands began to shake. He made his way over to the bed, cradling his head in his hands to nurse the throbbing in his forehead. Whether it was his scar or just a pounding headache, he wasn't sure, but after a few minutes of calming breaths, the pain began to subside. He stood and walked over to the pitcher stand in the corner, pouring himself a cup of water and drinking deeply.

Looking around the room, everything seemed suddenly bright and ordinary. The red bed hangings thrown haphazardly open, clothing scattered on Ron's and Seamus' beds, stacks of books on the desks and bits of parchments littering the floor. This wasn't the room of the Hero of the Wizarding World. It was just the room of five seventeen-year-old boys.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind. _You've got to get it together,_ he told himself He looked out the window at the blank sky and felt like a captive in a high tower with no escape. He needed to get out of the castle. He was damned if he was going to sit around all afternoon, hiding like some first year behind Dumbledore's protections.

He walked to his trunk and flung it open, rummaging through its contents until he found what he wanted and stuffed it under his shirt. He strode across the common room, aware of the first years' eyes on him again. Invisible. That's what he wanted to be. Invisible. He pushed through the portrait hole and headed for the third-floor corridor to the statue of the hump-backed witch.

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"…and so the boy says, 'No, but the duck doesn't know that!'"

Ginny burst into laughter, clutching Colin's arm with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. They had lingered over their picnic, talking and playing games and sharing jokes, and they were starting to feel a bit silly. When the last Chocolate Frog was gone, they finally stood up and piled their trash in the center of the blanket.

"Allow me?" Ginny asked.

Colin gestured grandly. "By all means."

Ginny waved her wand. "_Evanesco,_" she said, and the blanket and all its contents disappeared. She turned to Colin, a smile lighting up her face.

"It's good to hear you laugh," he said, his eyes resting on hers.

She met his gaze and felt a flush begin to creep up her cheeks. "It's good to be with someone who makes me laugh."

They stared at each other for a moment more before Colin lowered his eyes and looked down the hillside. "Back to the village, then?"

"Yes," said Ginny, recovering herself. "Let's go to Zonko's next."

They spent the rest of the afternoon running in and out of shops, trying on funny hats and browsing through bookshelves, calling to each other when they found something interesting. At around four o'clock the students began to make their way back down the high street toward Hogwarts. Ginny and Colin fell a bit behind, and she didn't object when he slipped his hand into hers as they walked.

When they reached the outskirts of the village, Colin's grip tightened on Ginny's hand, and his pace slowed. She looked up in question and saw an embarrassed smile on his face.

"Let's go over here for a moment," he said. She looked to where he was pointing and saw a grove of trees standing in a small field near the path.

"What for?"

"I just don't want to go back yet."

She gave him a quizzical smile and let him lead her off the path toward the trees, her shoes sinking slightly into the soft earth. Colin stopped and looked up at the branches forming a covering over them. The leaves nodded back and forth, letting in snatches of grey sky and then snuffing it out again.

"The light in here is so soft, this would be a great place to take some pictures," he said.

"Yeah, it's pretty. I never really noticed it before." She looked around politely, waiting. For what, she wasn't sure.

Colin seemed to be looking everywhere except at her. She felt a nervousness emanating from him, and a smile played on her lips. For all his exuberance, he could really be quite sweet when it was just the two of them. He turned to her and took a deep breath.

"I didn't really bring you here to look at trees," he laughed.

"No?" she chuckled softly.

He moved closer and took her hand, playing with her fingers and avoiding her gaze. "We're pretty good friends, aren't we?"

Her heart sank just a bit. "Yes, I think so."

"And when two people have been friends for a while, sometimes, they might start to feel more for each other… more than just being friends I mean."

She brightened a little. "Yes?"

"And I find that I'm starting to, maybe, feel that way about you. More than just being friends, that is, if that's alright with you. I mean, if you don't feel that way, I understand, I just…"

"Colin."

He stopped his rambling and looked up from her fingers into her soft eyes.

"Me too."

He beamed at her with a wide grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He exhaled in relief and she smiled. His hands cupped her shoulders and pulled her closer, his eyes resting on her lips. "I had such a good time with you today."

"So did I."

"Is it okay if I…" His eyes flicked up to hers in question. She nodded and he bent his head, meeting her lips in a chaste kiss. When he met her eyes again, she could see that they were serious, all trace of their earlier silliness gone. He leaned in again and kissed her deeply, drawing her into a warm embrace, and she circled her arms around his waist.

This was what it meant to be more than friends, she thought. Not whatever it was that she had with Harry. Harry made her feel passion and love like she'd never known, but he also left her confused and exposed, raw. This was sweet and safe. There was no confusion in kissing Colin, just comfort. But no sooner did she have this realization than Ginny felt an emotion radiating toward her that was so strong, it jolted her and she pulled back suddenly, searching Colin's eyes.

Jealousy.

"What is it?" he asked.

She paused. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yes… did I do something wrong?"

Ginny furrowed her brow. "No. I'm sorry, I just felt odd for a moment."

She mustered a reassuring smile and drew him down to her again, closing her eyes and concentrating on the feel of his lips on hers, but after a few seconds, she felt it again. Jealousy. Pain.

She pressed against Colin's arms and wrenched her lips away, looking anxiously around her, but she saw nothing except the gentle swaying of the branches overhead.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

She returned her eyes to Colin's and stared deeply into them. "What are you feeling right now?"

Colin flushed and he began to back away from her. "Oh, I'm sorry… you think this was a mistake."

"No!" She reached out and held his face with her hands. "No," she repeated more softly. "Just tell me. Are you happy?"

His features relaxed somewhat, though he was clearly not sure what to make of this sudden change. "Yes, very happy."

"And you're not feeling…" Jealous? It seemed ridiculous. Why would Colin feel jealous right now? "You're not feeling angry or hurt?"

"Of course not. Ginny, what's going on?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes and looked around at the trees again. A slight wind stirred the branches, and she heard a soft rustling sound. Maybe it was the leaves, maybe…

She shook her head. "It's nothing, just a feeling I had. But it's gone now."

She tried to smile, but the moment was broken. She laced her fingers through his, squeezing them in what she hoped was an encouraging way, and said, "Come on, let's head back."

A look of disappointment flitted across Colin's face, but he recovered quickly. "Alright."

As they made their way back to the path, retracing the sunken footprints they had made previously, Ginny noticed another pair of footprints a few feet from theirs, leading to and from the trees as well.

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. You guys rock!_


	12. Hey Jealousy

Chapter 12 - Hey Jealousy

Harry threw off his invisibility cloak and peered around the corner to make sure the corridor was clear before approaching the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Jobberknoll," he whispered and strode into the common room as nonchalantly as he could under the circumstances.

After returning to Hogsmeade through the secret passageway to Honeydukes, Harry had wandered around the village aimlessly, alternating between feelings of anger at having to skulk about and relief that he could be anonymous and unseen for a little while. He had taken the opportunity to explore some of the side streets of Hogsmeade that he hadn't seen before. As he went farther afield, the shops had given way to houses, and he had watched the villagers going about their daily business: witches tending their gardens, children playing on toy broomsticks, elderly wizards gathering in twos and threes on their front stoops.

Once he had calmed down a bit, he'd made his way back to the village center and unexpectedly came upon Ellie Bridgeton crying in the alleyway behind the Three Broomsticks. She was alone, and Harry had hurried past, feeling uncomfortable. He supposed crying girls were just something he would never get used to.

And then, when he had decided he might as well head back to the castle, a sight greeted him that had stopped him in his tracks: Colin and Ginny, walking hand in hand with not a care in the world. He had looked twice to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. And when they'd stepped off the path toward the grove of trees, he had hesitated only a moment before curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Now, he forced a casual wave to Ron and Hermione, who were just taking off their cloaks in front of the fire as he walked in.

"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing over to him. "How are you feeling? I got rid of Rita as fast as I could, but it's a good thing you came back here. She was just itching to find you. What did you do all afternoon?"

"Oh, you know, wandered around a bit, went to the library for a while."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't sit in your room and sulk."

Ron joined them and put a restraining hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Alright, mate?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

The portrait hole opened and Ginny and Colin came through. Harry's gaze met Ginny's briefly as they passed, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as they stopped at the dormitory stairs.

Colin spoke softly to Ginny and planted a quick kiss on her cheek before heading up the boys' staircase. Ginny turned and met Harry's eyes again with a look that was far too penetrating for his comfort. Then she, too, climbed the stairs to her room.

"Since when is Colin Creevey kissing my sister?" Ron asked, annoyed.

"Since this afternoon," Harry said without thinking.

"_What?_ How do you know?"

Harry came back to the present a moment too late. "What? Oh… you know… I just assumed…" He trailed off and noticed Hermione giving him one of her own penetrating looks.

"Well," Ron went on, "you've got to break that up! I thought _you_ were… well, you know."

"No, I _don't_ know," Harry said tersely, "but if Ginny wants to be with Colin that's got nothing to do with me."

A silence fell over the trio as Harry shifted nervously and Ron settled on a disgruntled look of confusion. Hermione looked between the two of them with a bemused smile.

"Boys," she muttered and excused herself to her room.

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Later that evening, Harry and Ron played chess in the common room while Hermione sat next to them, occasionally looking up from her book to suggest what Harry's next move might be. Across the room on the couch, Ginny, Colin, and Maura revised for their upcoming exam in Charms.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"I said, can you quiz me on chapter six?" asked Maura. "Where are you? You seem a million miles away."

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking." She turned to Colin. "Can you excuse me for a few minutes? I think… I need to talk to Harry."

Colin stared at her for a moment, trying not to look surprised. "Sure. Of course."

"It won't take long; just wait here for me, okay?"

"Okay."

Ginny stood and Colin chanced a glance at Maura, who looked as skeptical as he felt. Approaching the chess table, Ginny stood quietly until Hermione looked up from her book.

"Harry…" Ginny said in an even voice.

Harry looked up from the board and felt a jolt somewhere in his midsection. "Hi, Gin, what's up?"

"Could I talk to you for a minute, please?"

"Um, can it wait? I'm just about to…"

"No, it really can't."

Now Ron had also looked up from the board, and Ginny nervously shifted her weight. She wished the three of them would stop staring.

"Uh, okay," Harry said. "Hermione, can you sit in for me?"

"Sure."

Hermione exchanged a confused shrug with Ron as Harry followed Ginny toward the portrait hole.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as she turned down a little-used corridor not far from their common room.

"In here, where we can talk." She stopped in front of a large portrait of Godric Gryffindor and tapped her wand at the edge of the frame. It swung open to reveal a darkened room, though once they entered, the torches on the wall sprang to life and cast a glow over dusty red armchairs, scattered tables and rolled tapestries.

"What's this place?" Harry asked, amazed that Hogwarts still held secrets of which he knew nothing.

"Gryffindor storage room," Ginny said off-handedly. "So…"

"How did you find it?" Harry interrupted.

Ginny crossed her arms impatiently. "If you must know, Michael and I found it when we were together. There's one like it at Ravenclaw Tower as well, behind the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Oh. _Oh…_" Harry said, as the understanding of why Michael and Ginny would have use for such a room dawned on him. He shifted uncomfortably. "So, you wanted to talk to me?"

Ginny exhaled and regarded him for a moment, unsure of how to start. "How was your day? Did you have a nice time in Hogsmeade?"

Harry stared at her, his apprehension starting to mix with annoyance. "That's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Because I had a very nice day," she continued. "With Colin. In fact, we got a lot closer today, and we've decided that we want to try being together. As more than friends, I mean. But I think you already knew that."

"Why would you think that?"

Ginny looked at him pointedly. "Because I think you were there. I felt you."

Harry wrinkled his brow. "You couldn't have. I didn't touch you."

"Aha! I knew it." Harry saw the spark in Ginny's eyes grow larger as she advanced on him. "Were you spying on me?"

Harry's heart was racing now; he was caught and there was no way out of it. He held up his hand to fend off the coming attack. "Alright, yes, I was there. But I wasn't _spying_ on you. I just saw you together and I… sort of… what do you mean you _felt_ me?"

Ginny gestured between them. "_I felt you_. I felt your… emotions."

"How did you know they were mine?"

"I didn't until I saw your footprints in the mud. You were under your cloak, weren't you?"

She took his silence as a yes.

"I can't believe you. What were you thinking, following us like that?"

Harry was at a loss for words. "I… I don't…"

"You were jealous. I could feel it. And hurt. And I have to ask myself why in the world you would be feeling like that when you've made it very clear to me that you don't want anything more than friendship!"

Ginny's anger was quickly dissolving into confusion. She was desperate to get inside Harry's head, to know what he was thinking, because she was at her wits' end. One minute they were getting on fine as best mates, and the next she was getting signals that had her mind whirring again with possibilities. It had to stop.

"Ginny, you're acting like you think I had this all planned out, like I did it on purpose. But I didn't," Harry retorted. "After lunch, Hermione spotted Rita Skeeter in town and I came back to the castle to avoid her. But after a while I couldn't stand being stuck up here, so I grabbed my cloak and snuck back into the village. I was angry; you can't even imagine the things that were going through my head. And then I saw you and I just…"

"_You just what?"_ she pleaded.

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't think it would help the situation to tell her that what he had felt was an inexplicable longing to be near her, a longing so deep that it had taken him by surprise. He had wanted her to talk to him, to touch him and tell him that everything would be alright and that she would never leave him. He tried a different tack.

"I just think maybe you're rushing things. I mean, are you serious? _Colin Creevey? _I saw the way he looked at you. You can't tell me that you feel the same way about him."

Ginny caught her breath and a look of hurt crossed her face. "Colin _likes_ me. He's safe. I can feel that he is just happy to be with me. He's so… not… complicated." She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "He's what I need right now."

Harry stared at her intently until she looked up at him again. "Do you not feel safe with me?"

Ginny gave a cynical laugh. "I feel a lot of things when I'm with you, Harry, but I'm not sure that 'safe' is one of them. My heart is not safe with you. What am I to you? Do you even know?"

"We're friends, we're…" He had been about to say they were more than friends, but he didn't want her to take it the wrong way. He wasn't even sure what that meant. He only knew that he didn't want her to go back to Colin.

"What are you jealous of? Can you even tell me?"

"You tell me," he huffed. "You're the one who's supposed to know all about my feelings."

"Harry, how many times do I have to tell you, _I can't read your mind_. Yes, I can feel that you're jealous, but I don't know of what. Are you jealous of Colin because he's with me? Are you jealous of me because I've found someone and I'm happy? Or are you just jealous because you want to feel that way about someone, too?"

Harry was startled. He had thought the answer was obvious, that he was jealous because he wanted Ginny for himself. But maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn't her, exactly, but the idea of being in a relationship with someone that he really longed for. His mind rejected this notion immediately. He didn't want the trappings of a relationship; he had already decided that. Hadn't he?

"Harry, you can't have it both ways. Please don't do this. I like Colin, I need to give it a chance."

The look on Ginny's face gave Harry a sinking feeling. He knew he was putting her in an impossible situation, but he was powerless to stop the clenching in his gut at the thought of losing her. "I… I'm sorry, Gin. I've gotten so used to you, so used to having you in my life. I wasn't prepared for what I felt when I saw you together."

"What did you feel?" she asked softly.

_I wanted to be the one laughing with you, holding your hand. I wanted to be the one to make your face light up like that_, he thought. Instead, he said, "I miss you. We were so close at the Burrow. I miss that."

Ginny was beside herself. What did he want from her? "Do you want me to leave him? Should I tell him I can't be with him? Tell me… please… tell me if that's what you want."

"No… I don't know."

"Don't do this to me, Harry." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You can't do this to me again." She made to move toward the door, but as she drew level with him, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Don't go."

"What do you want me to do?" she sighed in frustration.

"Stay with me."

"Why?"

"Because you're…" She thought if he said "my friend" she would be done with him forever. She couldn't do it. Not anymore.

"Just stay with me… please. I'm sorry."

She looked up into his eyes then and saw the boy she loved, the boy who had captured her soul. Her resolve collapsed. Who was she kidding? She couldn't leave him.

"Alright."

He loosened his grip, but didn't let go. Letting out his breath, he pulled her into an awkward embrace. They stood in silence as he stroked her hair, and she grasped him tightly, burying her face in his robes, not wanting to break the bond between them. She could feel the conflict raging inside him. The desire, the loneliness, the desperation, the confusion.

"Ginny, I'm…"

"Shhh." She looked up at him with a whisper. "Don't say you're sorry. I know, I know. Can you still be my friend? Even if I'm with someone else?"

"Always."

She reached up and touched his cheek, holding his eyes intently. "I am still your friend. Always."

"You must think this is all so unfair, that I can't sort this out and give you the answers you need."

A sad smile crept onto her face. "I've gotten used to it."

"I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't. But I'm here."

"I know. Thank you." Harry released her and stepped back, clearing his throat. "We should go back."

"Are you okay with me going back? To Colin?"

He looked at the ground for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "Yes," he lied.

She nodded, not so much in agreement as in understanding. They turned and exited the room, walking in silence until they reached the portrait hole. Harry gave the password and stood aside as she entered the common room first. He watched her walk to the sofa where Colin was waiting, curling up next to him and laying her head on his shoulder. He whispered in her ear and she nodded, not taking her eyes off the fire. Colin looked over the top of her head, and Harry met his steady gaze for a moment before turning and climbing the stairs to his room.

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Harry opened the window next to his bed and climbed under his covers, letting the cool night air wash over him. At last, he felt his shoulders relax into his pillow, his mind slowly shutting down. A soft melody drifted through the window like a lullaby. He looked up to see Hermione leaning over him, his head resting on her outstretched legs. A warm breeze ruffled the grass around them as she sang, her fingers smoothing his hair as a mother might to a small child. He closed his eyes to rest, but the legs were shifting now.

When he looked again, it was not Hermione but Ginny who knelt next to him. She whispered something that he could not understand and placed her hand over his heart. He reached for her, but she stood up and began to walk away. The air turned cold and the sky darkened. Harry felt a lead weight in his chest where Ginny had touched him. He tried to get up and go after her, but she was too far ahead now. The air around him began to swirl with snow, and he lost sight of her. A feeling of dread came over him as he called her name again and again, but the only response was a cold, disembodied laugh.

Harry woke with a start. His nose was numb from the cold wind now blowing over him. He hastily got up and shut the window. Still disoriented from his dream, he climbed back into bed and buried himself beneath the covers, wishing for sleep to return and ease the dull aching in his scar.

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The following Wednesday was the first of October, which meant Harry's monthly meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Excusing himself to Ron and Hermione after dinner, he made his way to the gargoyle and rode the winding staircase up to the headmaster's office. But before he could knock, the door opened to reveal a very preoccupied Draco Malfoy. Malfoy stopped short at the sight of Harry, and the two stared at each other for a moment: Harry in surprise and Draco with a look of barely concealed disdain. But his usual remarks were absent, and Harry was greeted only with a curt "Potter," as Draco brushed past him and down the stairs.

"Ah, Harry, come in," came the ever-congenial, though increasingly tired, voice of the headmaster from within the office. Albus Dumbledore had a long and colorful history with Harry. They had kept secrets from one another, fought with each other, and protected each other. But in the end, it was the earned respect and love that had developed between them that kept Harry coming back to his mentor's side again and again.

Harry tore his gaze away from Malfoy's retreating back and stepped inside.

"Hello, Professor." He sat in the chair that Dumbledore indicated and reached for a lemon drop from the bowl on the desk, knowing that he would be offered one anyway. The two exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before Harry got up the nerve to ask what was on his mind.

"Professor, there hasn't been any more news of Voldemort's activities, has there? I haven't heard of any more killings."

Dumbledore sighed. "The Order has received some inside intelligence that seems to indicate that Voldemort is still gathering followers to replace those he has lost to Azkaban. They now believe that the Muggle-born killings of last spring and summer may have been a sort of training exercise for new recruits."

"Inside intelligence? You mean Snape."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Yes, _Professor_ Snape, and… others."

"Others?" Harry asked. "Who?"

Dumbledore rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers in front of him. He stared in the direction of his office door for a long moment before answering. "That information is being kept confidential for the time being. For the safety of those involved."

"Being kept even from me?" Harry's annoyance at having information withheld from him was beginning to rise in his gut, even though he knew there were certain things he was still not privy to.

Dumbledore smiled. "Even from you. But we have discussed this before. You can rest assured that I will share any information with you that is pertinent to you and your ultimate confrontation with Voldemort. But there are other forces at work here, Harry. Things that do not necessarily concern you."

"Like a threat to Hogsmeade, perhaps?"

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in interest. "Has there been a threat to Hogsmeade?"

Harry faltered, not expecting this response. "Hermione seemed to think so. And I got the distinct impression that she got that idea from you."

Dumbledore nodded. "Miss Granger is an excellent Head Girl. Her loyalty and trust serve me and this school well. Though I admit that it is sometimes necessary to call on that trust for other purposes." He paused to lean forward, making sure he had Harry's full attention. "I know you are well aware that Miss Granger is the brightest witch at this school. But her role as a protector and overseer of its students is a new one. Yes, I did lead her and Mister Malfoy to believe that there might be a threat in Hogsmeade, but it was part of a larger plan of the Order's. A test of sorts."

"A plan which you did not feel the need to let me in on."

Dumbledore inclined his head again, but offered nothing further.

"Well, Hermione was hell-bent on shadowing me all day. She was convinced something would happen to me. Why get her all worked up over that and not let me in on it? She made me paranoid over nothing."

Dumbledore voice became suddenly sharp. "I did not say it was nothing. I also did not think I needed to remind you of the importance of keeping up your guard at all times. Especially when you are outside the walls of this castle. Was I mistaken?"

Harry felt the color rise in his cheeks, and his frustration was replaced by embarrassment. He was ashamed that the headmaster should have to remind him of the need for constant vigilance.

"No, sir," he replied.

Dumbledore's posture relaxed a bit as he settled back in his chair. He considered Harry for a moment, letting the air clear between them. When he spoke, his voice had regained its fatherly tone.

"You seem to have more on your mind than a trying day in Hogsmeade. Is there anything else that you wish to discuss with me?"

Harry shook his head. "It's just… I had a dream. It wasn't like the dreams I had before, when Voldemort was trying to show me something. I don't think. But I did feel some aching in my scar afterwards."

"May I ask what the dream was about?"

"It was… personal."

"I see. But the connection between yourself and Lord Voldemort is nothing if not personal," Dumbledore said with a shrewd look.

"I just meant that… it wasn't to do with Voldemort specifically. But I thought I could still feel him there. Somehow. Like he was watching my dream."

Dumbledore's brow creased in thought. "Perhaps your Occlumency training has prevented him from insinuating himself into your dreams, but you have still left an opening of some sort? An interesting thought. I think we will spend a little more time on Occlumency tonight rather than what I had planned. I trust you will let me know if you have any more dreams of this nature?"

Harry nodded. Dumbledore rose and walked around the desk.

"So, other than these things, how have you been settling in to the new year? You are happy to be back, I trust?"

Harry smiled. "As always."

"And I understand that your first match of the season is only a few days away. Against Slytherin?"

"Yes, sir."

"I know Mister Malfoy is looking forward to the challenge. You would do well to keep on your toes, Harry. But of course," he said, eyes twinkling, "you always do." He moved back a few paces and raised his wand. "Shall we begin?"

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Saturday dawned clear and cool, and Harry was anxious to get into the air and work off the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He led his team onto the Quidditch pitch and met Malfoy's firm handshake and steely glare eye to eye.

"You're not going to know what hit you, Potter," Malfoy sneered.

"I doubt that."

The whistle blew and fourteen red and green blurs rose into the air. Harry flew high above the stands as the announcer's voice boomed over the crowd.

"And they're off! Gryffindor looking very fit today as Ginny Weasley takes the Quaffle. It's Weasley to Jacobs, Jacobs to Townsend, Townsend for the shot and… ooh, a narrow save by Slytherin."

Harry checked Malfoy's position, then flew to the left, not paying attention to the ongoing commentary until he heard the unmistakable sound of a Slytherin cheer rise up into the air.

"Blimey… did they… yes they did! Slytherin scores!" the announcer yelled. "What a shocker; Weasley hardly had time to see those Chasers whiz by as Harding and Harding team up for the goal."

Harry whipped his head around to the end of the field to see Malfoy's new Chasers, two mirror-image boys, streaking around the hoops. "What?!" he breathed. At the goalposts, he saw that Ron looked equally shocked.

Malfoy flew up behind Harry and smirked. "Finally, a pair of twins who know what they're doing, eh, Potter?" he called and sped off toward the other side of the pitch.

Harry set his face with a grim determination. He gave the field a once over, but seeing no sign of the Snitch, took a chance and brought himself alongside Ginny.

"Stay on them!" he said, nodding at the dark haired twins in green. "Don't let them shake you!"

"They're too fast!" Ginny yelled, leaning into her broomstick.

"Then fly faster!"

The match continued in the same way for the next hour, Gryffindor making only one goal for every five scores by Slytherin. Harry was seething when the announcer called out, "…and it's Slytherin 100 to Gryffindor 20!"

"Time out!" Harry called, waving to Madam Hooch. She blew her whistle and the Gryffindor brooms raced each other to the ground.

"Harry, you've got to catch the Snitch _now_!" Ron bellowed, red-faced. "I can't hold them!"

"Do you think they've charmed their brooms?" Harry asked, shooting a glance behind him at the Slytherin huddle.

"Not likely," Ginny said, her cheeks on fire from the exertion of flying. "Madam Hooch would have caught it in the security check. They're _twins_, Harry. That's why they're so quick. They know what each other is thinking. They're anticipating everything we do."

Ron nodded, and Harry realized that if anyone would know just how powerful twin minds could be together, it was the Weasleys.

"Right," he barked. "I'm going to catch it as soon as I can, but I want _everyone_ on them. And you two," he pointed to his Beaters, "I want every Bludger aimed at their heads. Got it?"

The whistle blew and the team rose into the air as one. Harry searched frantically for the Snitch. Slytherin 110. Slytherin 120. Gryffindor 30. Slytherin 130. And then, there it was, glinting at the edge of the third Slytherin goalpost.

Harry sped toward it, flattening himself against his broom. From the opposite side of the field, Draco Malfoy sped toward the same goal, arm outstretched. Both Seekers closed their fists at the same moment, colliding in midair and rolling over each other in a tangle of red and green. But only one felt the fluttering of wings against his hand as he opened it to reveal the Golden Snitch, holding it high above his head.

The red, yellow, and blue stands erupted into cheers as Harry circled the field with the Snitch before landing on the soft pitch, surrounded by his team who just looked relieved that the whole thing was over at last. He stalked over to the Slytherin team and stopped abruptly, holding the Snitch in front of Malfoy's face.

"Looks like Chasers aren't everything," he growled.

"This time," Malfoy glared as he turned and walked off the field.

The Gryffindors entered the locker room battered and exhausted. Ron kicked the wall, sending a stack of school broomsticks clattering to the floor. Harry knew he should say something encouraging, but didn't think he could muster any positive words just now, despite their narrow win.

"Why didn't we see this coming?" he asked, pacing in front of his team. "Did anyone know about the Harding twins?"

The team slumped on their benches and against the wall in silence until Sophie spoke tentatively.

"I… I know them. They're in my year. But I've never seen them play. I figured they would be just as new to the whole thing as I was. Ginny was right, though. They do seem to have some kind of twin connection going on. In the classes I have with them, anyway."

"This can_not_ happen again. Does everyone understand?" Harry pointed at his Chasers. "You three have got to come up with a plan. Sophie, find out what you can about them. And you," he said, wheeling on Ron. "You and I are going to spend every free minute we have in extra Keeper practice."

Ron nodded, embarrassed. "We won't let you down, Harry."

Harry dismissed the girls to their own locker room to get changed and shook his head in frustration.

"Great catch, Harry," Sean mumbled.

He gave a half-hearted "Thanks" as he threw open his locker and began tossing his gear into it with a bit more force than necessary.

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Monday morning and Advanced Potions came far too early. Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team had endured taunting remarks and triumphant looks from the Slytherins all weekend, and it didn't appear that they had any intention of letting up.

"Well, at least Harry is still the better Seeker," Hermione had pointed out unhelpfully at breakfast. "That's really the most important thing, isn't it?"

"No," Ron had snapped back, "that _isn't_ the most important thing. We're a _team_." But Ron knew better than to try and engage Hermione in a discussion on the finer points of Quidditch, and she had shrugged her shoulders and let the matter drop.

Harry dropped his bag on the dungeon floor and leaned over his cauldron, poking the greenish brew that had been stewing since their last class. He looked around nervously when Professor Snape swept into the classroom and Ellie had still not arrived, a fact which had also not escaped the potion master's notice.

"Well, well, Potter, it seems…" But the gleam in Snape's eye was checked by the opening of the dungeon door and a very harried looking Ellie rushing to her seat.

"Sorry, sir," she mumbled, not looking up.

"Five points for your tardiness, Miss Bridgeton."

"Yes, sir."

Snape cast her a disappointed look and turned away to harass Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones.

"Sorry, had a bit of a bad start today," Ellie said distractedly, pulling out her notebook.

"Right, well, what do we add next, then?" Harry asked impatiently, having had a bit of a bad start himself.

"You've got a notebook as well, haven't you? Why don't you look it up," she snapped.

Harry was about to spit back a caustic remark, but was stopped short by the puffiness around Ellie's eyes and red cheeks that she was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind her long hair.

"Are you okay?" he asked in an undertone, pretending to look over his notes so as not to attract attention.

Ellie sniffed and brushed the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. "Yes, fine."

"Because you don't look okay."

"I said I'm fine. Are you going to go on about it or are we going to add this yarrow root?" she grumbled, pulling the plant from her bag and slamming it on the table.

Harry huffed. "No need to get in a snit." He grabbed the root and began chopping vigorously. When he was finished, he lifted the cutting board and tipped it into the cauldron.

"No, wait! We're supposed to…" Ellie yelled, grabbing his arm and spilling the yarrow root to into the cauldron, causing the potion to hiss and turn an unsavory shade of yellow, "…put the essence of murtlap in first," she finished with a groan.

"You didn't say that!" Harry hissed.

She let go of Harry and buried her face in her hands. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Within seconds, Professor Snape was standing over their cauldron with a look of incredulity mixed with disdain. With a wave of his wand, the potion vanished. "I'm glad there was no one lying in the hospital wing waiting for your Inanimatus Restorative, because their condition would have just been severely lengthened by your incompetence." He glared at both of them, and a few Slytherins sniggered. "I trust you will pay better attention next time. Begin again."

"That was a week's worth of work!" Harry ground out under his breath as Snape walked away. "Now we're going to have to come in extra to start all over again!"

Ellie finally looked him in the eye, though when he saw the glare she was giving him, he almost wished she hadn't. "Everyone makes mistakes. Or maybe the great Harry Potter doesn't know what that's like."

Harry's eyes widened. Who did this girl think she was? The mistakes he had made had cost people their lives. What did she know? He didn't know anyone who would dare say such a thing to him. Except for…well… Ginny.

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_A/N: The chapter title "Hey Jealousy" is taken from the Gin Blossoms song of the same name. And I also probably should have mentioned before that the story title "For Your Love" is taken from a song by The Yardbirds. I actually have a little list of songs I used for inspiration while writing this story. Maybe I'll list them all at the end as a "soundtrack" of sorts._

_I've been having an interesting discussion with some friends this week about the use of the word "alright" vs. "all right". I use the more casual "alright" all the time, as you may have noticed. I prefer it for dialogue and just think it reads better. But some have made the very good argument that for written works, the more formal "all right" should be used._

_So, I'm just wondering, do you have any opinions on this? Does it bother you to see "alright" in a story? Does it look like a typo to you, or do you think it's a personal preference? I'm trying to decide whether to do a global find/replace and change it throughout the story._

_Thanks, see you next week!_


	13. Beautiful

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who responded about my alright vs. all right dilemma. Most of you thought it was fine as is, and I agree. I like "alright" better, so I'm going to leave it. Thanks for your great reviews as well!_

Chapter 13 - Beautiful

"I think I owe you an apology," Ellie began.

It was the following evening, and Harry had just walked into dungeon five for their make-up session to find her already sitting at their workstation.

He dropped onto his stool and looked at her inquiringly, but said nothing. He wasn't about to make this easy for her. Not only had she embarrassed him in front of Snape and ruined their joint project, but now he had to give up three evenings over the next week in order to get their Inanimatus Potion back on track: time that would have been better spent doing the homework that was rapidly piling up for the seventh years.

Ellie glanced at him and then back down at the tabletop. "Reed, my boyfriend… well, I guess he's not…" she began, tripping over her words. "I think you saw us in Hogsmeade."

Harry nodded shortly.

Ellie went on. "He broke up with me, right there, right in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, and I guess I'm just… I'm not handling it very well."

Harry remembered seeing her crying in the alleyway in Hogsmeade. He felt just as uncomfortable now as he had then and merely replied, "Oh."

"I mean, we were together for a year, and then he just, out of the blue…" She looked at him apologetically. "I know this isn't your problem. Except that now you've got a lump for a Potions partner, and I've messed up everything, and here we are stuck in the dungeons when I'm sure there are loads of other things you'd rather be doing. And I can't believe the things I said to you, after all you've been through! I had no right. I'm _so sorry_, Harry. For everything."

Her blue eyes looked so sincere that Harry's stony face softened a bit. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly in a stellar mood yesterday either. I should have paid more attention," he mumbled.

She shot him a sympathetic look. "Slytherin dealt you quite a blow, didn't they? You flew spectacularly though, you really did."

Harry half-shrugged and shook his head distractedly. "Yeah. But it's not just that. It's…" He looked up at her, listening so intently, seeming so interested in what he had to say. He forgot momentarily that she was not aware of all the intricacies of his life like Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were. "I've just got a lot on my mind these days."

She sighed. "We make quite a pair, don't we? Maybe Professor Snape wasn't so smart to put us together after all."

Harry chuckled quietly. "We'll just have to make the best of it I suppose." He smiled at her, and her face lightened. "So… asphodel…" he said, opening his notebook and reading the ingredient list.

"I've already got the first few things measured out. I came down early to make sure it was all done," she said, adopting a businesslike tone.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh, you didn't have to do that…"

"No, it was my fault. I didn't want you to lose your whole evening because of me."

"Well… thanks," he said, though he was beginning to think there were definitely worse ways to spend an evening than with Ellie Bridgeton.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Thanks everyone, I think we're done here," Hermione said, and a sigh of relief rose from the room. The prefects gathered their things and began to filter out from their monthly meeting.

"Ready?" asked Ron, drumming his fingers on the table as Hermione continued to scribble last minute notes. On the other side of the room, Pansy Parkinson waited just as impatiently for Draco.

"Um," said Hermione, dotting her last "i" and glancing at Ron. "I think we just need to…" She gestured across the table at Draco, who looked up from his piece of parchment.

"Yes, but let's get on with it, shall we? I don't have all night," Draco said in a clipped tone.

Hermione turned to face Ron. "There are just a few things we need to go over. I won't be long."

Ron grimaced as though he had just tasted something objectionable and looked sideways at Malfoy. But Hermione touched his face and turned his attention back to her.

"Hey," she said softly, "save me a seat by the fire." She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss, bringing a smile to his face.

"Alright, now I'm just going to be sick," Draco complained, but Hermione noticed that he allowed Pansy to do the same to him before she swung her bag over her shoulder and swept out of the room.

When they were alone, Hermione got up and closed the door, leaning against it with her arms crossed.

"What do you think?" she asked, nodding at the parchment he still held.

"Does it matter what I think?" he replied, tossing the paper onto the table. "If Dumbledore wants to reinforce the wards around the castle and increase the patrols, what am I going to say? No?"

"But Dumbledore has had this place locked down since the beginning of the war. I can't imagine how extra prefect patrols are going to make it any safer. Do you agree that the castle needs to be more fortified than it already is?"

"No, Granger, I'd like the castle to remain as unsafe as possible," he said sarcastically.

Hermione looked at him shrewdly, trying to discern by his reaction whether his apparent newfound loyalty to Professor Dumbledore was genuine or a ruse to hide another, more sinister agenda. She had been constantly surprised by his willingness to submit himself to Dumbledore this term, and even though he had at times expressed disagreement and had spoken more brazenly to the headmaster than she would ever have done, he had ultimately deferred to Dumbledore's leading. He had also been good to his word, for whatever that was worth, in taking charge of Slytherin house with an iron grip but leaving the other students largely untouched and in Hermione's care. She couldn't quite work it out.

"I don't know why I bother…" she muttered.

"Why _do_ you bother? I thought your master plan was for us to keep as far away from each other as possible this year. And I have to say, it's working splendidly. Let's keep it that way."

He stood and gathered his things together, signaling the end of their conversation. But when he reached the door, Hermione did not move. She narrowed her eyes and fixed them on his.

"What now?" he asked coldly.

"I can't decide if your upstanding Head Boy act is genuine or just that… an act."

"Well, while you're busy working that out, I'll just leave, shall I?"

But Hermione stood her ground. "You haven't called me that filthy name in weeks. And you've even left off taunting Harry and Ron… by your standards anyway. Why?"

Draco's temper flared. "Are you seriously whinging that I'm not being nasty _enough_? Merlin, there really is nothing good enough for you, is there!"

His voice had risen in spite of his carefully cultivated ability to control his emotions. He caught himself and lowered his tone to a more dignified level, narrowing his eyes and leaning into her.

"My opinion of you hasn't changed, _mudblood_. But even you must know that Dumbledore wouldn't let me anywhere near Head Boy if he thought I was completely untrustworthy. Maybe, for once in your life, you'll have to accept the fact that _you don't know everything_." He punctuated his last words intentionally, challenging her to defy him. She accepted and stood a little straighter, lifting her chin.

"Voldemort was Head Boy, too," she stated simply.

Draco's eye twitched at the use of the Dark Lord's name, but his voice was deadly calm. "Yes, he was."

A thrill of fear swept through Hermione, the tension between them thick with innuendo. "I hope you know what you're doing, Malfoy. I want to trust you. I want to believe that your father getting sent to Azkaban has finally opened your eyes to the insanity of your pureblood agenda. But if you're playing us, if you're playing some game that is going to cost people their lives, then not even the Dark Lord will be able to save you when I get through with you."

Only then did she move aside, but their eyes remained locked until Draco finally opened the door and stepped out, shutting it with a firm snap behind him. Hermione let out a shuddering breath and clutched the table in front of her as the adrenaline that had been holding her up left her in a rush.

Outside the door, Draco stood staring at the wall that separated them. "Damn you, Hermione," he whispered, fists clenched as he made his way down the marble staircase, across the Entrance Hall, and into the dungeons.

------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione drew a steadying breath before climbing through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Ron sat in his usual armchair by the fire where he had been waiting for her, having nodded off with his head slumped to the side. She smiled, suddenly filled with a warm sense of security. Dropping her things on the floor, she sat on the wide arm of his chair and reached out her hand to brush his long fringe out of his eyes.

He started awake, but smiled when his eyes fell on her, stretching sleepily. "I waited for you."

She slid onto his lap and buried her face in his neck. "Thank you," came her muffled voice.

"You alright?" he asked, lifting her chin to look up at him.

She snuggled into him. "I am now."

On the other side of the room, Ginny watched them from her perch on the window seat. She caught Harry's eye and nodded in her brother's direction. Harry looked up from the table where he had been studiously catching up on his homework and smiled, pleasantly surprised by this rare scene of peacefulness between his two friends.

Ginny put a finger in the book she was reading and padded over to Harry's table, dropping into a seat next to him. She leaned over his arm. "What are you working on? You've been sitting here since we left for the prefect's meeting hours ago."

Her closeness was beginning to affect Harry's concentration, especially the way her hair was now brushing against his arm. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat so that she sat up again.

"Just catching up. This essay for Flitwick is my last one."

"Mind if I sit with you? The light's a bit dim by the window."

"Sure."

Ginny curled her legs under her and opened her book, the fourth in the Elena Bronwen series that Harry had given her for her birthday. She sat quietly, only the occasional sound of a turning page breaking the silence. But try as he might, Harry could not seem to get past the sentence on his parchment that he had been trying to read for several minutes now, his eyes unconsciously darting to the redhead beside him every few seconds.

And then he realized what was drawing his attention. It was not Ginny, but the moving picture on the cover of her book. The same stunning, determined witch stared out at him that he had admired months before when he had first discovered the books in Flourish and Blotts, holding her wand tightly while the wind off the moors whipped her long dark hair around her face. He hadn't realized it until now, but she looked remarkably like Ellie Bridgeton.

"Ah," he exclaimed softly, finally resolving the nagging feeling he'd had that Ellie reminded him of someone.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"It's nothing, I just…" He trailed off, not wanting to share the thoughts that had flitted through his head. "That's the book I gave you. Is it any good?"

"Yes, it's brilliant." She had noticed Harry looking at the cover and flipped the book shut to stare at it herself. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Harry felt his cheeks color and quickly turned back to his parchment. "I suppose."

Ginny, sensing his discomfort, seized on the chance to have a bit of fun. "What do you mean, you suppose?" she asked, thrusting the book in front of him. "Do you think she's beautiful or not?"

Harry glanced up at her mirthful eyes and conceded with a dry smile. "Yes, she's beautiful."

"What makes her beautiful?" she asked.

"What do you mean? Just look at her…" Harry gestured toward the picture. "Any bloke would think she's pretty."

"But I mean, what exactly?"

Harry studied Ginny's face for a moment, trying to determine if she had an ulterior motive for this question, but was only met with an innocent curiosity. He looked back down at the cover.

"Well, her hair, I suppose. I like long hair on a girl."

Ginny reached up without thinking and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What else?"

"Her eyes. They're pretty. And she looks… strong. Sort of mysterious, yeah?"

"Mmmm," Ginny murmured in agreement. There was a pause.

"Anyway," Harry said to fill the silence, "I'd better finish this essay."

"Right, I'm going to bed. It's late." She glanced over to the girls' staircase where Ron and Hermione were saying goodnight as well.

"G'night, Harry."

"'Night, Gin."

Ginny smiled as she dressed for bed. On the way back from the prefect's meeting, she and Colin had stolen into an empty classroom for a few precious moments alone together. Their kisses had been playful and punctuated by fits of laughter before they had snuck back to the common room and said their goodnights. And then, sitting next to Harry quietly, feeling his strong presence, she had a sense of deep contentment. Her two men, as she thought of them now. So different, but together filling the spaces in her heart until it was overflowing. Snuffing out the candle beside her bed, she burrowed beneath the covers and was soon overtaken by sleep. But the depths of her subconscious mind had just begun to awaken.

_"Ginny. Ginevra, I'm here. I know you can feel me. Won't you come to me? Won't you talk with me like you used to?"_

Ginny stirred. A cold washed over her and she shuddered. She tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy with sleep.

_"No,"_ her dream-self whispered. _"I won't."_

_"Look at you, so beautiful, so much more a woman than the last time I saw you. Others have seen it as well, haven't they? But your heart still burns only for one. I wonder, does he think you're very beautiful? Does he love to look at your long hair and stare into your eyes? No one has looked into your eyes and seen the depths of your soul like I have." _

_"I love him."_

_"Love?" _the voice spat_. "Love is weak. Only power is strong. Together we are powerful, Ginevra. Together we can accomplish great things. Don't you remember? You don't need love."_

_"Colin loves me."_

_"Does he? He is just a boy, what does he know about you? A filthy mudblood; he is beneath you. Does he know what you and I had together? Does he know that you used to tell me your deepest fears, your darkest secrets? Does he know that you are the one who petrified him and left him lying in a hospital bed for so many months? No one knows you like I do. Come to me, I'm longing for you."_

_"No, Tom. I won't. I won't!"_

Ginny sat up in bed, breathing heavily. She looked around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was no one there, save the soft breathing of her roommates deep in their own dreams. She lay back down and stared at the canopy of her four-poster, willing herself to believe the mantra that she was chanting over and over again. "It was just a dream. Just a dream." Tom Riddle was dead, the memory of him pierced through and ripped apart by Harry. Her Harry.

Yet she knew in her heart that he was not gone. He had visited her before, in the field of flowers at the Burrow after her first year. She had convinced herself that it was only her mind playing tricks on her, delusions brought on by the trauma that she had endured in the Chamber of Secrets. And she had not dreamt of him since then. Why now? What forces in her mind had been unleashed now to allow him access again?

She shut her eyes and tried to block out all thought, but sleep eluded her until well into the night.

------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny stumbled down to breakfast the next morning, yawning into her bowl of porridge. She had finally snuck in a few hours of sleep near dawn, but it was not enough. She felt on edge and told herself that it was the lack of sleep, and not the unwelcome dream, that was making her jittery. Now, sitting in the sun-bathed Great Hall surrounded by chatter and clinking tableware, it was easier to believe she had imagined it all.

An unseen body swooped up behind her, circling two arms around her waist, and she jumped sky-high, flinging her spoonful of porridge straight into Colin's unsuspecting face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, sitting down beside her and reaching for a napkin.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Saying good morning, what are _you_ doing?"

"Sorry, had a rough night."

Colin reached for some toast. "Why?"

"Nothing," Ginny mumbled.

"Nothing?"

"It's nothing, alright? Just had a bad dream. I was up late talking to Harry and…"

Colin fought not to choke on his pumpkin juice. "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Oh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? Nothing."

Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at him. "What, are you jealous now?"

Colin knew that if he showed any inkling that he was bothered by his girlfriend spending time alone with the love of her life that he might as well pack it in right there. He had to accept their relationship for what it was and, somehow, do his best to take Harry's place in her heart. Someday. If that was even possible.

"No. Why… should I be?"

"We are friends, you know. It's not out of the ordinary that I might chat with him once in a while."

"No, it's not," he said reasonably.

Ginny was tired, and snippy, and probably being unfair. But his nonchalant attitude irked her. He had no reason to be jealous of her spending time with Harry, but would it hurt him to show a little more fight? She had the feeling she was going to need someone to fight for her. Soon.

She pushed away her bowl with a sigh and leaned to pick up her schoolbag. "Time for Herbology," she mumbled, and Colin finished his juice in one gulp, picked up his books and followed her out of the Hall.

Harry watched Ginny as she strode past, thinking that she looked very pale, before turning his attention back to Ron and Hermione.

"So then, I need to meet with Professor Vector about my Arithmancy project, and I'm on prefect patrols for lunch," Hermione was saying, consulting her schedule for the day.

"So, I'll meet you after lunch then. I'll bring you a sandwich, and we can walk to Charms together," Ron said.

"No I can't, because I told Professor Flitwick I would come early to discuss me tutoring some of his O.W.L. students."

"Hermione, you've got to eat." Ron swallowed a mouthful of his own breakfast.

Harry's eyes waffled back and forth between them from across the table. It was exhausting enough watching them when they were like this – Ron trying desperately to wedge himself into Hermione's carefully crafted plans that, oddly enough, never seemed to include a spot for him – that Harry couldn't even imagine actually being in the relationship itself.

"Oh, no! I've got to run to the library before Ancient Runes and it's nearly nine!" Hermione gathered up her things and turned to Ron. "I'm sorry, I'll see you… well, I'll see you in Transfiguration. Sorry!" She kissed him on the cheek and hurried away, her robes and hair bouncing in her wake.

Harry gave Ron a sympathetic smile. "That's Hermione for you. Never happy unless she's…"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." Ron stared at his plate for a moment, lost in thought, but then seemed to snap himself out of it. "Ready, mate?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "let's go."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Mr. Potter, that is the third time you have managed to blow up your wattlebird," Professor McGonagall said, wiping the red feathers from her hair. "I'm afraid my patience and my supply of wattlebirds are running thin."

"Sorry, Professor."

"Practice for homework, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

Harry lowered his wand and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He was tired and unfocussed. The days were beginning to blur together as autumn crept onward, and the strain of being a seventh year N.E.W.T. student, Quidditch captain, and hero-in-waiting was taking its toll.

Later that afternoon, Professor Flitwick had much the same reaction to Harry's faulty Imperturbable Charm and was expressing his concern at the quality of Harry's work when the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, you are free to go. But I must insist that you…"

"Practice," Harry interrupted with a groan. "For homework. Yes, sir."

He didn't miss Flitwick's frown, nor Hermione's raised eyebrow, as he gathered his things and headed out of the classroom.

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, coming alongside him.

He waved her off, not wanting to have the conversation that was sure to ensue. "Just tired," he said.

"You're still up for extra Keeper practice though, right?" asked Ron, coming up on his other side. "Because the weather's good and we've got a free period while Hermione's in Arithmancy. We can get it in before dinner."

"Oh, that's good," Hermione beamed, "because then you'll both be free tonight for a Defense revision session!"

Harry stopped walking and looked at both of them. All he wanted to do at the moment was collapse onto his bed for a well-earned nap.

"Yeah, alright," he sighed, forcing a smile and trying to ignore the pressure settling on the back of his neck.

------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week was no better, and by the time Harry arrived for his third Potions make-up session with Ellie late Saturday afternoon, he felt like something resembling a very grouchy, very harassed, very tired-looking goblin. It was not helped by the fact that Ellie seemed to be in a similar frame of mind, which did not bode well for the state of their project.

"You haven't had a worse week than me," she said, catching his mood as he walked through the door and jumping in before he could say anything.

"I have."

"No, you haven't."

Harry dropped his book onto the table and crossed his arms, surveying her as she chose a bulbous seed and began to grind it into a powder with her mortar and pestle.

"I've had less than four hours of sleep every night for the past five days," he began calmly.

"I've fallen asleep in three classes this week and lost fifty points for Ravenclaw," she said, equally nonchalant.

"I've gotten extra homework in every class," Harry went on, gathering momentum.

"I've gotten detention for the first time in my life for having so many incomplete assignments," she countered.

"I've got a best friend who is so bad at Quidditch that I spend every available moment I have throwing Quaffles at his face in the hope that he'll actually stop one of them."

A smirk crossed Ellie's face briefly before becoming serious again. "I've got roommates who are convinced that I'm having a nervous breakdown and keep trying to slip Pepper-Up Potions into my pumpkin juice."

Harry stood silently for a moment, thinking. Finally, he said, "I've got a Dark Lord trying to kill me."

There was a pause as Ellie stopped grinding and looked up slowly from her cup of white powder.

"Alright, you win."

Harry's lips curled into a half smile. "I thought I might."

They stared at each other, the corners of Ellie's lips twitching, and she dropped her pestle into the bowl with a clang as her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Harry felt the weight on his shoulders lift an inch.

"You know what we need?" she asked.

"What?"

"A distraction."

Ellie opened her textbook and read, "'The Reishi Mushroom must be picked within twenty-four hours of the full moon in order to achieve maximum potency.' When was the last full moon?"

Harry thought. "Two days ago?"

"Close enough," Ellie shrugged. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

Harry stared at her blankly. "A walk?" But she had already picked up a basket from a nearby shelf and was on her way out the door. "Um," he said, jogging to catch up, "I'm sure Snape has some in his private storeroom…"

"So? Is Professor Snape's private storeroom your idea of a distraction? No. We're going to find our own."

She marched up the dungeon stairs and through the oak front doors at a brisk pace, heading across the lawn toward the Forbidden Forest.

"We're going into the Forest? How do you know there are mushrooms in there?" Harry asked.

"Reishi Mushrooms grow on logs and tree stumps. Besides, I know that Hagrid harvests them. He mentioned it in our Care of Magical Creatures class once. He feeds them to sick animals." She looked at him sideways as they continued across the lawn, side by side. "You _have_ been in the Forest before, haven't you?"

Harry coughed. "Once or twice. Have you?"

"Once or twice," she replied with a sly smile.

The late October sun was warm and by the time they reached the edge of the tree line, they had both shrugged off their school robes, draping them on a nearby branch.

"They do need some sunlight to grow, so they shouldn't be too far in," Ellie said, stepping into the cool shadows, the twigs snapping beneath her feet.

They walked quietly for a few minutes, stopping now and then to examine a fallen log before Harry called, "Is this it?"

Ellie made her way over to the top of a ravine where Harry stood, looking over the edge at an old tree stump sticking out of the earth a few feet down the steep slope.

"Yes, that's it!" Ellie nodded. "I'll climb down and get some."

"What?" Harry started. "You can't climb down there."

Ellie looked at him with a mixture of offense and amusement. "Of course I can, it's not far. Here, hold my hand in case I slip."

She set down her basket and held out her hand. Despite his better judgment, Harry grasped it firmly and braced his legs as she lowered herself over the edge. She crept further and further, stretching her arm as far as it would go.

"I can't reach. Bend down a little further."

Harry crouched down on his knees, intending to lower her gently. But at that moment, Ellie let out a sharp yelp and he was pulled forcefully to the ground, his arm now hanging well over the edge, still clutching her hand.

"Ow," he groaned.

"Sorry, my foot just slipped," she gasped. "I'm alright. I can reach it now."

She quickly pulled off as many mushrooms as she could reach and stuffed them into the pockets of her skirt. Harry grasped her arm with both hands and began to pull as she scrambled back up to the top.

"There!" she said, with a broad smile and rosy cheeks. She emptied her pockets into the basket and stood to brush herself off. "That was fun."

"Yes, it was brilliant," Harry said sarcastically, standing and rubbing his shoulder. But he couldn't help but smile at her daring enthusiasm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Look at you, you're a mess!"

Ellie reached out and touched his chest, wiping away the dirt that clung to his shirt. He didn't move, but let her, watching her face as her eyes roamed over him, causing a fluttering in his stomach. When the dirt was gone, her hand lingered. She moved closer and ran her fingers up to his shoulder and down his arm, her eyes following their trail. Harry tensed. Even Ginny had never touched him like this. It awakened something unexpected deep inside him.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly.

She met his eyes then and smiled. "Creating a distraction." She lifted her lips and met his tenderly. After a moment's hesitation, he returned the kiss, fighting down the torrent of emotions that were both pulling him back and pushing him forward all at once. His hands found their way to her hips and rested there, not sure if he should push her away or draw her closer. Reason eventually found its way into his brain and he broke away, looking down into her darkened eyes.

"Ellie, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, despite what you might think of me, I'm pretty much a mess when it comes to relationships, and you're just getting out of one. I'm not sure you know what you're getting into."

"Who said anything about a relationship?"

Harry felt a jolt of embarrassment. "Oh… isn't that what you were…"

"I just want to feel close to someone, to have some relief from real life for a while. I think you need that, too. Couldn't we just… do that for each other? For a little while?"

He stared into her eyes. It seemed so simple, so inviting, to lose himself in the touch of someone who didn't expect anything from him, who he didn't have to worry about hurting, just to have a release from the pressure and doubts that still plagued him.

"I don't know, can we? I'm not Reed."

"I'm not asking you to be. No strings, Harry. I promise." She took his hand in both of hers and lifted his palm to her lips. He let his fingertips graze across her cheek, but kept himself in check.

She searched his face. "You don't believe me."

He dropped his hand and stepped back, crossing his arms and biting his thumbnail absently for a moment before meeting her eyes. "I want to."

Pain and longing fluttered across her face. He wanted to take her in his arms and bury himself in her, forgetting everything else. But it couldn't really be that easy. Could it?

"Just think about it. If you can't, I understand." She stooped to pick up the basket of mushrooms and turned back toward the castle, brushing her hand self-consciously across her lips as she swept past him. He let her get a head start, then exhaled softly and followed her.

_A/N: So, we've reached the halfway point. I just wanted to mention that this was the last chapter that I wrote before the release of HBP last year. I actually sent this off to my beta on the same day Book 6 came out. I did not go back and alter anything in the first half after reading HBP, nor did I change my plan for the later chapters. However, there were some eerie coincidences in the way my story was going and the things that happened in HBP. And even though I won't go into any discussion of horcruxes in this story, I think the background that HBP provided regarding them and how they work will be helpful in understanding the direction I took with regards to Ginny & Tom. Hope that wasn't too cryptic : ) Thanks for reading!_


	14. Awakenings

Chapter 14 - Awakenings

"Colin…" Ginny sighed exasperatedly, "take that thing off your head."

"Why, don't you think it makes me look dashing?" he asked, gesturing grandly to the top hat he had just managed to conjure in Transfiguration. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Handsome?" he continued, walking backwards in front of her down the corridor. She pressed her lips into a smirk.

"Cheeky?" he asked, falling into step beside her again and reaching around to tickle her ribs.

She laughed and swatted his hand away. "Oh, you're cheeky all right."

They climbed the stairs to the third floor, pinching and poking each other along the way, drawing curious stares and smiles from the students around them, when Ginny grabbed Colin's arm and pulled him through a nearby door into the Trophy Room. The glass cases shimmered in the late afternoon sun, but Colin was focused not on the golden cups or highly polished awards, but on the gleam in Ginny's eye.

"Stop it," Colin laughed. "Someone will see us."

"Who cares if they do?" Ginny smiled, pulling him down by the collar of his robes into a long kiss.

A breeze blew through an open window and slammed the door shut, closing them off from the bustle of people in the corridors. But they hardly noticed, lost as they were in each other.

"Are you always this impulsive?" Colin asked several minutes later, his top hat lying forgotten on the floor.

"Usually," she breathed. "Is that bad?"

"No," he smiled, brushing his fingers through her hair. "It's what I love most about you. You aren't afraid of anything."

Ginny's heart caught in her throat at the look on his face. "Aren't I?" she whispered.

He shook his head and lowered his lips to hers once more, kissing her more slowly now.

"I do, you know," he murmured.

She smiled against his lips. "Do what?"

He kissed her again before pulling back to look into her eyes. "Love you."

It was a moment before she remembered to breathe. She shook her head, not sure what to say. "Oh, Colin..."

"I do, Gin, I've loved you for ages. Maybe you think it's too soon to be saying this, but I can't hold it in any more. I need you to know."

And suddenly, she was afraid. Very afraid.

_Love? He doesn't love you. He doesn't even know you, doesn't know what you're capable of. Doesn't he know that you are mine?_

Ginny was blindsided by feelings of anger and jealousy being hurled at her.

_No,_ she thought, _he can't be here. He wouldn't dare._

"Harry?" she breathed, looking around.

"What?" asked Colin, startled by the way Ginny was now looking frantically around the empty room.

"Harry, stop it! Stop it! You have to leave us alone, I told you. Don't do this!"

Colin, who was beginning to panic himself, grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"Ginny!" he demanded. "There's no one here. Harry's not here. It's just you and me."

"No," she shook her head. "I know he's here, I can feel him." She drew out her wand and held it in front of her with a shaking hand. "Accio cloak!"

The door flew open and in floated Peeves, cackling in delight as he always did when he found a couple snogging in secret.

"Naughty, naughty, you got caughty!" he chimed, but Ginny was already out of the room, flying up the stairs to the seventh floor.

"Peeves!" Colin yelled in a most uncharacteristic voice, "Leave it!"

He dashed out after her, his mind racing in a million directions. He was hurt and angry, but mostly afraid of what he had just witnessed. Something was terribly wrong.

Ginny hurtled down the seventh floor corridor toward the portrait of the Fat Lady.

_That's it, Harry,_ her mind screamed. _No more. You can't do this to me; I won't let you. _

But she was brought to a full stop by the sight of Harry and Ron, chatting amiably, walking toward her from the other direction.

"Hey, Gin, what's up?" Ron asked, stopping when they reached the place where she was standing. But Ginny only had eyes for Harry.

"You. How dare you..." she began before it dawned on her exactly what she was looking at. "Why are you carrying broomsticks? Why are you dressed in Quidditch gear?" she demanded.

Harry's eyes went wide. "We were outside practicing," he said.

"Practicing?" Her brows knit together in confusion, and she turned to Ron for confirmation.

"Yeah," he nodded, "extra Keeper practice. You knew about that. Gin, what's wrong?"

She turned back to Harry, her mind spinning. "You were outside? You weren't just... in the Trophy Room?"

Harry shook his head, becoming increasingly concerned at Ginny's behavior.

She looked between them once more and covered her mouth, her own eyes growing wide.

"Ginny!" Colin had reached the top of the stairs and came running toward them.

"Oh no, no..." Ginny turned and fled in the opposite direction, disappearing around a corner. Ron put out an arm to stop Colin from following her.

"Someone had better tell me what's going on with my sister," he growled, blocking Colin's path.

"Ron, something's wrong. We were in the Trophy Room and all of a sudden she starts going on about Harry and she was frantic. She ran out of the room and I followed her up here. Please let me go after her."

He tried to push past, but Ron refused to budge. "What were you doing in the Trophy Room?"

Colin's face reddened. "We were... um..."

"Well?" Ron pushed.

"We were... snogging."

"That better have been all you were doing." Ron made to grab Colin's shirt, but Harry stepped in quickly.

"Ron, go and find Ginny. Go!"

Ron let out a sigh of frustration and pointed at Colin. "You. Stay here."

When Ron had disappeared around the corner, Harry took over where he'd left off.

"What did you do to her?" he asked angrily.

Colin's eyes narrowed. "Nothing. But I think it's interesting that every time we start to get close she goes haring off after you. So maybe I should be asking what _you_ did to her?"

Harry stared in stunned silence. "Me? I've never done anything to her except be her _friend_."

"Exactly."

Harry was beginning to feel very irritated. Was Colin Creevey actually fighting with him over_ Ginny_? Was he actually questioning Harry's intentions toward her? Where was the little boy who worshipped the ground Harry walked on, and who was this annoying bloke now glaring at him eye to eye?

"You don't know anything about my relationship with Ginny," he said coldly.

"Grow up, Harry. If you're not going to give her what she wants, then let her go. She's not a starstruck child anymore. And neither am I."

Colin pushed past him and through the portrait hole, leaving Harry utterly baffled.

A few corridors away, Ron had finally found his sister, crouched in the corner of an empty classroom, staring blankly into space. She looked up, startled, as he rushed to her side.

"What the hell was that all about? Are you okay? Did Colin do something to you?"

She shook her head, fixing her eyes on her brother's face. "What's happening to me? One minute I'm kissing my boyfriend and the next I'm like a raving lunatic. Ron, I'm scared." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I feel like he's back. But he can't be, can he? Harry killed him, he's gone."

Ron had both hands on her shoulders now, trying to steady her, willing her to make sense. "Colin said you were upset about Harry. Harry hasn't killed anyone, Gin. It's okay, you're okay."

"Ron, don't let Harry find me. Please. You can't tell him about this. He only makes it worse and I need to think. I need to breathe. Promise you won't tell him."

"Tell him _what?_"

"Ron..." she said firmly.

"Okay, I promise."

She drew up her knees and buried her head in them, taking deep, calming breaths.

They heard footsteps in the corridor and Harry stuck his head into the room, exhaling in relief and hurrying to the corner, dropping on his knees in front of Ginny. He reached out to touch her, but she shrank from him.

He looked to Ron. "What happened?"

Ron shrugged helplessly in reply.

"Ron, please..." came Ginny's muffled voice, her arms covering her buried head.

"Harry, you need to go."

"But I didn't do anything, I swear."

"I know, but you need to go, mate. She'll be alright. I'll stay with her." Ron gave Harry a meaningful look and gestured to the door.

Harry looked once more at Ginny, but she had shut him out completely and wouldn't even look at him. He stood and walked slowly out of the room, looking back to see Ron rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture before he slipped out into the corridor.

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Later that evening, Hermione rushed into the common room to find Harry sitting alone on the sofa, staring into the fire. She dropped her books onto the floor and sat beside him.

"There you are! Have you seen Ron? Why weren't you at dinner?"

Harry tore himself away from his thoughts and looked at her. "Hi."

"Hi? That's it? Ron was supposed to meet me in the library an hour ago! Is he down in the kitchen nicking food? Because if he is I'm going to..."

"Hermione," Harry croaked, his voice gravelly from sitting silent so long. "Ron's not here. He's with Ginny. He may have taken her to the hospital wing, I don't know."

Hermione stared at him blankly. "Ginny? What happened, is she hurt?"

"No," he said quietly.

Hermione took in his demeanor for the first time, his sagging shoulders, his worried eyes, and her voice softened. She touched his arm. "Harry, are you okay? What happened?"

"I... I don't really know." Harry relayed what had happened the best he could. "It was like she didn't want anything to do with me. She wouldn't let me near her."

"Did you _want_ to be near her?" Hermione asked gently.

"I wanted to help her. I care about her; I wanted to make sure she was okay. But why would Colin say that I should give her what she wants or let her go? What's that supposed to mean? The prat."

"Harry," she said, resting her hand on his thigh, "I know you think you've worked out this whole 'just friends' thing with Ginny, but you have to try to see things from her point of view."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she's feeling very conflicted right now. You and she became really close over the summer. I noticed it when I was at the Burrow, and even Ron told me how well you two were getting on. It started dredging up all those old feelings she used to have for you, but you didn't feel the same way, did you?"

"How did you know about that?"

Hermione shrugged. "A little from Ginny, a little from Ron. He may be slower than the rest of us, but he notices things in his own way. Especially where she is concerned. But we agreed that we would stay out of it. We didn't want to push either of you.

"And then along comes Colin. He's a good friend to her, he likes her, he wants to be with her. And she thinks maybe she can be happy with him. But because of this friendship the two of you have, you're always there, aren't you? You're always in the background, always part of the equation. You're not giving her what she wants, but you can't let her go."

"Do I have to choose one or the other?"

"Harry, what is it that's keeping you from choosing? I don't believe you when you say you don't have real feelings for her. I see the way you look for her when you walk into the common room, or the Great Hall. I see the way your shoulders relax when you finally spot her."

"I do?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, you do. So, what is it?"

Harry sighed. "She's Ron's sister; she's like family to me. And whatever I might feel for her, and I'm not saying what those feelings are, it's just not fair to ask her to be with me that way. You know me, Hermione, you know what I'm facing, where my life is heading. I can't put that burden on her."

"But you already have. All of us have taken it willingly. It's part of loving you and being your friend."

"No, that's not what I mean. I know that she'll always be with me, supporting me. I can't change that. But you and Ron have been with me from the beginning. You know what's at stake, you've seen it. She deserves better, someone who can really be with her and make her feel safe and loved. And right now, I'm not it. She's better off with Colin."

"Harry, that's daft. She knows what you're facing and she wants all of you, the good and the bad. But if you really believe that she's better off without you, then you have to let her go. Because what you're doing with her now, it's tearing her up inside. I don't know what this thing with Colin tonight was all about, but I wouldn't be surprised if the stress of it all is starting to cave in on her."

Harry looked at her in silent contemplation. "Why do you have to be so smart all the time?"

She smiled and shrugged. "It's what I do."

The portrait hole opened and Ron stepped through, alone and looking tired.

"Hi," he said, falling into the seat beside Hermione and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Did Harry tell you?"

She nodded. "How is she?"

"I finally convinced her to go to Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Draught. She's up there now, Pomfrey wants her to sleep for a few hours. But she'll be alright."

"Did you ever find out what set her off?" Harry asked. "Was it something to do with me?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to betray Ginny's trust. "I think, maybe, yeah, you were part of it. But it was more than just you. Pomfrey thinks it's just stress, says she sees it all the time in sixth years who are starting their NEWT courses, extra work, you know."

Harry didn't believe for a moment that schoolwork was the cause of Ginny's outburst, but kept silent.

Ron rubbed his eyes. "I've got to go find Colin. Ginny asked me to tell him where she is."

He started to rise, but Hermione caught his arm. "And then you'll come back down?"

"No, I think I'll just go to bed. I'm knackered."

"But we were supposed to revise for our History of Magic exam. I waited for you in the library; I've made up revision sheets and everything."

Ron groaned. "I forgot. I'll just have to do it tomorrow morning." He shrugged. "It's not like I would have passed it anyway."

"You would if you'd go over these notes with me," Hermione sighed.

"Hermione, drop it," he said tersely. "It's not important." He turned away and disappeared up the boys' staircase.

"Yes it is," she whispered, looking defeated as she shuffled through the parchments on her lap.

Harry knew it was his turn to be sympathetic. He took the papers from her. "Here, I'll revise with you."

Hermione gave a dry laugh. "You're not even in the class."

"I know, but I could still quiz you."

"No thanks, it's not me who needs the help."

His heart went out to her. For all her faults, she did put up with an awful lot from him and Ron. He reached over and gently tugged a stray curl of her hair.

"Thanks for talking," he said.

She gave him a small smile. "You're welcome."

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Colin rested his head on his hand at Ginny's bedside, waiting for her to wake up. Madam Pomfrey assured him it wouldn't be long. Her eyelids fluttered and she opened them slowly, blinking in the dim light as Colin's face grew clearer.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Colin moved his chair closer and rested his arms on the edge of the bed, fingering the sheet nervously.

"Feel better?"

She nodded, but her words caught in her throat. "Colin, I'm so sorry. I'm the worst girlfriend in the world."

"Shh. No you're not. It was too soon. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, it wasn't that. I loved hearing you say that. Please don't think that's what this is about."

"Well then?"

She held his eyes, but Colin saw that she was holding back. She bit her lip.

"Ginny, you need to talk to me. I'm here and I want to help you. Please tell me what's wrong."

"I don't think I can."

"It's okay, just try." He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

"No, I mean I can't. I can't explain it so that you would understand."

How could she possibly explain to him that Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, the one who had forced her to do those terrible things to her friends, to Colin, to the entire school was back? Back in her mind, back in her thoughts, threatening to take control of her again, threatening her very sanity? And that possibly, it was because of Colin and his feelings for her that this was even happening?

Because it had begun to dawn on Ginny, in the hours since she had run from Colin, that there was only one thing that had changed since that summer after her first year, when she had last felt Tom's presence. She had loved Harry almost from the moment she saw him, had denied love, had embraced love, had hoped for love. But now, for the first time in her life, someone actually loved _her_.

When Harry had told her about the prophecy, he said that love was Voldemort's greatest weakness. It was the power that Harry had that Voldemort knew not. Love. Whatever this vestige of Tom's soul was that still lived inside her had been reawakened not by a desire to control her, but by love, the thing he found most abhorrent in the world. The thing that threatened his very existence.

Colin let out a frustrated sigh and withdrew his hand.

"But," Ginny interjected, sitting up, "I'm not going to let this come between us anymore. I can handle it."

He looked at her skeptically. "You can handle it? Seems more like it's been handling you. I hate feeling like every time I try to get close to you, you fly off in all these different directions. If you don't want to be with me, just tell me."

"Colin Creevey, listen to me." She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. Ginny didn't know if she could ever love him the way he loved her, but she was damned if she would give him up just because the ghost of Tom Riddle wanted her to.

"I want to be with you," she said deliberately. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Now kiss me and let's go home."

A laugh of relief escaped him. He reached out and brought her forehead to his, gazing into her eyes for a long moment before saying, "Okay," and bringing his lips to meet hers.

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It had been four days since Harry's encounter with Ellie in the forest, and in that time he had been doing some hard thinking. What she had asked, it just seemed wrong somehow. And yet... so harmless. Who would say no to the offer of a beautiful girl with no strings attached, to an escape from reality which, if he was honest, couldn't have come at a better time? Still, it felt like a betrayal. Of what, exactly, he wasn't sure.

It wasn't until the episode with Ginny – and Hermione's admonition that he should let go of her – that he made up his mind.

He gathered his things slowly after double potions on Wednesday morning, hoping that Ellie would take his cue and do the same, and motioned for Hermione to go ahead without him. When the room was all but cleared, he whispered, "Can I talk to you?"

Ellie nodded and they hurried out before Snape could take points from them for dawdling, turning right outside the classroom rather than left toward the stairs with the other students. Dungeon Three was empty and a safe distance away from Snape's office. They ducked inside and closed the door.

"I've been thinking about what you said the other day in the forest," Harry began with no pretense.

Ellie's eyebrows shot up. "And?"

"And… okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

Ellie's look was one of unbelieving surprise, and she was rendered speechless for a moment. "Okay," she finally said.

"So, how does this work then?" Harry asked, setting his bag on the floor and clearing his throat nervously. It all felt very clandestine now that he had agreed to it out loud.

"Well," she grinned, leaning slightly closer, "I was thinking you could put your lips right here," she teased, fingering her bottom lip, "and then I could…"

Harry flushed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I _know_ that," he grinned, shaking his head. "I meant, you said you didn't want a relationship. So what does that mean exactly?"

"It means that I'm not your girlfriend and you're not my boyfriend. That we're here for the sole purpose of shutting out all that life is dishing us and just being selfish for once."

"So I don't have to walk you to classes, or wait for you in the Great Hall, or send you little poems by owl?"

She chuckled. "No. And I'm not going to nag you or insist that you carry my bag or uphold my honor in front of other boys."

Harry frowned in thought. "And how long are we going to do this for?"

Ellie shrugged, amused by the seriousness in his face. "I don't know. It's kind of a moment by moment thing."

"So basically, we're just going to snog each other senseless until something better comes along?"

Ellie wrinkled her nose, "Well, when you put it like that…" she said. "Although it might be nice if we could treat each other as a sort of punching bag as well."

"Sorry?"

"Metaphorically, of course. Like if I feel I just really need to let off some steam, but I can't confide in any of my friends, I could vent to you instead. And vice versa."

Harry hadn't considered this, but there were plenty of times he'd wished he had some way to blow off steam without worrying that his friends might think he was falling apart again.

"That might come in useful, actually," he agreed. "So, are we telling other people about this little… arrangement?"

"Well, I can't tell you what to do…"

"Not being my girlfriend and all…" he filled in.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "But I think for me, I'd rather we just kept this between us. It sort of ruins the whole 'shutting out the world' thing if everyone knows, don't you think?"

"Sounds good to me."

Ellie cocked her head to the side and folded her arms. "So, did I pass?"

"What?"

"This little interview you've been conducting here. Did I pass?"

Her candidness caught him off-guard, and he smiled in embarrassment. "Sorry. That was a bit overbearing, wasn't it. I just wasn't sure. It's not exactly like I've ever done this before."

She shook her head and smiled. "It's alright."

But then a serious look came over her face. "Harry, I just want you to know that I've never done this before either." When he gave her a questioning look, she continued. "I wouldn't want you to think that I make it a habit of casually snogging any boy who comes along." She seemed suddenly unsure of herself, and Harry felt oddly protective toward her.

"I didn't think that," he reassured her. He reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her closer. His voice went quiet. "Shall we start now then?"

She smiled. "Oh, please, after you," she murmured.

He bent his head to hers, pausing just at her lips. She breathed out in anticipation and her scent washed over him, shutting out everything else, just as she had promised it would. He pressed his mouth gently to hers, much like the kiss they had shared in the forest. But he soon felt her hands wrapping around his waist, pressing into his back, and it sent shivers up his spine. She'd already had a boyfriend, he realized, it only made sense that she would be better at this than he was. He was unsure of what to do with his hands, so he kept them on her upper arms, squeezing lightly. But he needn't have worried, because when they finally broke apart, they looked at each other for a heartbeat before she broke into a smile.

"Yeah," she whispered. "This is good."

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October slipped into November, the Halloween Feast ushering in shorter days and colder nights. Darkness shrouded the castle, causing an unsettling heaviness in some while providing discreet cover for others.

Harry reveled in the newfound warmth he had discovered with Ellie. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. It was like being on holiday... at least for the few precious moments they were able to snatch every now and again.

Harry put the Marauder's Map and his knowledge of Hogwarts' secrets to good use, finding an endless supply of places in which to hide themselves away. Often their kisses were enough to make words unnecessary, and unspoken boundaries were laid down as they were needed. But sometimes they sat side by side and joked or made up fanciful stories, rendering themselves speechless with silent laughter. And occasionally they sought comfort, venting and shouting until there was nothing left but to hold each other and whisper soothing words. Afterwards, they went their separate ways, each going on with life until one needed the other again.

It was on such an evening after one of their encounters that Harry sat at a table in the library, a smile unknowingly creeping onto his face as he finished his homework.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked.

He looked up into the face of Ginny, who was regarding him with a peculiar expression as he closed his book. "Hey, Gin. I'm just finished actually."

"Oh," she said, somewhat disappointed. "I haven't seen you in a while. Just... wanted to say hi, I guess."

Harry felt a pang, but quickly pushed it down. "How've you been?" he asked, gathering his things.

"Good. You?"

"Good."

Ginny watched him, opening and closing her mouth a few times before blurting out, "Harry, did I do something..."

"I really have to go, Gin. Meeting with Dumbledore. I'll see you later, okay?"

She closed her mouth and forced a smile, nodding her head. He touched her arm briefly before slinging his bag over his shoulder and disappearing around the corner, leaving her with a slight frown as she sat down at the empty table and opened her books.

Harry pushed through the library's oak doors and into the corridor. But once out, he stopped and looked half over his shoulder, chastising his feet for wanting to turn around. He shook his head, clenched his jaw, and headed toward Dumbledore's office.

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Ginny's breath misted in the cold air as she emerged onto the Quidditch pitch. It was mid-November, and the grass crunched with frost under their feet as the team walked onto the field behind Harry for their second match against Slytherin.

She matched his determined stride, running through the new plays in her head that she, Sean and Sophie had been drilling tirelessly while Harry had yelled at them, pushed them, encouraged them. She thought about the way he would pat her on the back after practice and say "Good job today," and then turn away before she could even say thanks.

She stopped behind him when they reached the center of the pitch and thought about the relief that she sometimes felt when he wasn't around to occupy her attention, and the anger and sadness she felt when he was around, but failed to pay her any attention at all.

But there was no time for that right now. This was Quidditch.

Forty minutes into the match, Ginny's fingers were frozen. Gryffindor had managed to hold Slytherin to a more respectable pace, though the green and silver were still up by twenty points. If she hadn't been so focused on not letting the Quaffle slip out of her numb fingers, she might have seen them. Might have seen Malfoy and Harry in a desperate struggle for the Snitch directly above her. Might have seen Malfoy feint to the left, cutting in front of Harry unexpectedly and knocking him off balance for only a fraction of a second, but long enough for Harry not to right himself before he crashed headlong into the Ravenclaw stands, rendering himself unconscious as he slid down the blue banner into a heap on the cold ground.

The Slytherin stands erupted into raucous applause as Draco held the Snitch triumphant, turning to rub his long awaited victory in his rival's face, before he noticed that Harry was not behind him, but on the ground, a swarm of red and gold already surrounding him.

"Bloody hell, Potter, can't you lose gracefully even just once?" he growled under his breath, tightening his grip on the Snitch and heading for the ground.

Madam Pomfrey had already conjured a stretcher to carry Harry to the hospital wing before Malfoy could get close enough to see him. Madam Hooch, ready for the fight that inevitably followed every Gryffindor-Slytherin match, stood in front of Draco and handed out her judgment.

"It was a fair move! I've seen Potter do the same feint a hundred times," she called, holding up her hand to the advancing Gryffindor team. "Slytherin has won this match fair and square. For once," she added under her breath, looking over her shoulder at Malfoy with a look that clearly suggested that, winner or no, he would be wise to clear the field.

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"Everyone, everyone!" Madam Pomfrey called, pushing through the team to reach Harry's bedside. "This is a hospital room, not a circus! Although sometimes I wonder. Miss Granger, you are the Head Girl, could you please..."

"What?" Hermione looked up from Harry's bloodstained face, her face strained with worry. "Oh yes. Yes. Listen all of you," she said, mustering a commanding voice. "Clear off. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in a trice, but you need to give her some room."

She moved around the bed, pushing the boys back. She had spent enough time at Harry's bedside in this hospital wing to know how things worked, and Madam Pomfrey would not stand for any nonsense.

Ginny stood at the back, comforting Sophie, who had begun to go into hysterics.

"Soph, it's alright. This happens all the time with Harry. Madam Pomfrey will fix him right up."

"B-but, he's so... look at him! You didn't see him, Ginny. I was right behind him when he hit that pillar. I heard it. It was so awful."

Ginny faltered, but she would not allow herself to crumble in front of the team. She looked at the bed, Madam Pomfrey waving her wand over him furiously, Hermione ordering everyone about. But she knew he would be just fine. He always was. He would be fine.

"Sean," Ginny spoke in a shaky voice. "Could you take Sophie? Get her downstairs for some dinner?"

"Of course." Sean took Sophie's shoulders, but paused next to Ginny for a moment. "He'll be fine, Gin, don't worry."

"I know," she nodded numbly. "I know he will."

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_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. See you next week!_


	15. Seeing Clearly

Chapter 15 - Seeing Clearly

When the rest of the team had left, Ginny moved to the bed beside Ron and Hermione. Hermione's eyes never left Harry, and she clutched his hand as Madam Pomfrey continued to work over him. The blood was gone from his face and hair, but purple bruises remained on his nose and cheeks and he was still unconscious. His glasses lay on the nightstand, broken in half from hitting the stands face first. No one had thought to mend them yet.

"This is bad," Ginny breathed shakily. "He hasn't woken up yet. This is worse than when the dementors knocked him off his broom, isn't it? He should have woken up by now."

Ron put his arm around her, but no one said anything. No one offered her words of comfort. After several excruciatingly long minutes, Madam Pomfrey straightened up and looked at the three of them.

"I've done what I can; his body will need to do the rest, and for that, he needs quiet. I know it's useless to insist that you leave him alone, so I will allow _one_ of you to stay. And no arguments," she added when Ron opened his mouth to protest.

"I could..." Ginny began.

"I'll stay." Hermione said firmly, looking at Ron and Ginny for the first time. "You two should eat, you played a hard match. I'll stay."

They didn't argue with her. Ron let go of Ginny and crouched down to Hermione's ear. "I'll be back later to relieve you. He'll be okay. He's Harry." Hermione nodded, and he kissed her head before leading his sister out.

Exhaustion swept over Ginny. She began to rub her forehead, only to become suddenly alert again as they pushed through the hospital doors to find a girl with long dark hair leaning on the opposite wall, her hands worrying at the blue Ravenclaw scarf still wrapped around her neck. She started forward at the sight of them, but then checked herself and cast an anxious glance at Ron.

"Is he alright?" she asked in a strained voice. "The team said he hadn't woken up yet."

Ron stared at her evenly, confusion creasing his brow before he realized who she was. He shook his head.

Her face paled a bit more, and her eyes darted between him and the hospital doors. "Can I see him?"

"I don't think so," Ron said quietly, "but Hermione's with him. She'll let us know if anything changes."

Ellie nodded. "Right. Of course." She turned away and started down the corridor, but paused after a few steps. "Thanks, Ron."

He nodded and watched her retreat into the shadows.

"Who was that?" Ginny asked, mystified.

Ron's brow creased once again. "Ellie something, I think."

"Who is she?"

"Harry's Potions partner."

Ginny turned a dubious eye on her brother. "A bit keen for a Potions partner, isn't she?"

Ron shrugged tiredly. "I dunno. Let's go, I'm hungry."

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Moonlight shone through the tall hospital windows, casting an eerie glow over the almost empty room. Ron had returned after dinner, but Hermione had shooed him away.

"Won't you even let me sit with you?" he had asked.

"Madam Pomfrey said only one of us, and I can't leave him, Ron. I won't."

Guilt washed over her as she watched him leave, but some things were more important. Her best friend, lying alone and unconscious, was more important. She would have done the same if it had been Ron. At least, she thought she would.

Now, hours later, the door opened again, letting in a thin shaft of light. She did not look up as the heavy footsteps came nearer, nor when the figure stopped some feet away and sat down in an empty chair. But she knew by his gait and his careful manner who it was.

"Come to finish the job?" Hermione asked, tightening her grip on Harry's hand.

"If I had wanted to finish the job, do you think he would have made it to the hospital wing?"

His coldness stung her, but she did not reply. They sat in uneasy silence as the moon moved slowly across the window.

"I only came to see if he was alright. It was an accident, you know."

"What do you care if he's alright?" she hissed. "Hasn't this always been your greatest ambition? To get rid of Harry once and for all?"

"No." Draco stood up and moved closer to the bed. "That is the Dark Lord's greatest ambition. Not mine."

"My apologies," Hermione said evenly. "I hadn't realized those were two different things."

"The sum of what you don't realize would astound even you," he volleyed back. He eyed her with a look of disdain and perhaps a touch of jealousy. "You've been up here since they brought him in I suppose?"

"Why are you here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you be off celebrating somewhere?"

"I've already told you; I came to see how bad off he was. We can't go losing the only Golden Boy we've got. What would become of the rest of us?" he asked sarcastically. He looked at Harry impassively for a long moment before shifting his eyes to his Head Girl. "You're on patrol for breakfast. Don't be late."

"Enjoy your victory while you can," Hermione called to his retreating back. "Because I promise you it won't happen again."

A smile played on Draco's lips as he stopped and turned. "I'm counting on it."

As his footsteps died away, Hermione felt a stirring under her hand. Harry's eyes opened in slits and looked cautiously around. "Where am I?"

"Harry?" Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. "It's alright. You're in hospital."

"Hermione? Where's Ron? I heard voices."

"No," she said, stroking his hand. "It's only me. It's late, you've been out for a while."

He groaned and shut his eyes again. "My head hurts."

She reached for the vial that Madam Pomfrey had left on the nightstand with instructions that Harry should drink it as soon as he awoke, to ease any pain he might have.

"Here," she said, cradling his head in her hand. "Drink this."

He gulped the blue liquid and lay back again. "Malfoy knocked me off."

"Yes."

"Did he get the Snitch?"

"Yes. Madam Hooch called it a fair catch," she said regretfully, pausing to run a hand over his forehead. "I should go tell Madam Pomfrey you're awake."

"No, don't," he said, wincing. "She'll only want to poke and prod me for the rest of the night. I'll be fine."

She gave him a reproachful look. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "Well, I suppose I should go. Ron and Ginny will want to know that you're awake, and I need some sleep; I've been in this chair for hours. If you don't need me, that is."

"When have I ever not needed you?" Harry asked. She smiled. "Thanks for being here when I woke up," he said.

Hermione leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

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Once Harry awoke, the rest of his recovery followed quickly. The last of his bruises remained just long enough to earn him some sympathy and reinforce everyone's opinion that Slytherin's win was unjustified. But Quidditch matches and house rivalries were forgotten on one gray morning with the arrival of the_ Daily Prophet_ at breakfast. Hermione took the paper from the delivery owl as usual, but gasped when she opened it to the front page.

"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed, putting her hand over her mouth.

"What?" he asked, startled as he bit into his toast.

She pushed the paper in front of him and pointed to the article. "Ministry Employee Found Dead, Dark Mark Seen Over Brixton."

"It's Sherlock Perkins, look!" A sadness came over Hermione's face. "How awful for your dad!" she said as Ron scanned the article, his own face becoming increasingly downcast.

"Blimey," he said. "He was just coming home from the office when they attacked him, poor bloke. He was so old, probably didn't stand a chance." Hermione clutched Ron's arm as they read the article together, oblivious to Harry's confused stare from across the table.

"Who's Sherlock Perkins?" he asked when it became obvious they weren't going to offer any further details.

"He was dad's partner at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Ron said absently. He looked up at Harry, furrowing his brow. "Didn't you meet him once? At dad's office? I haven't seen him since I was small, and he was old even then. But dad always liked him."

Harry searched his memory and finally recalled the old warlock, sitting in the cramped office that he had shared with Arthur at the Ministry, surrounded by mounds of paper.

"But why target him?" Harry asked. "He couldn't have been a threat to Voldemort, could he?" He didn't want to say it out loud, but privately thought that Arthur Weasley would have made a more likely candidate if Voldemort was looking to target Ministry employees who were sympathetic to Muggles. Though admittedly, he had already tried to kill Arthur once and failed.

"Since when does You-Know-Who need a reason to kill someone?" Ron asked grimly. "Besides, with all the raids they've been doing lately, maybe he found out something he shouldn't have." He looked down the table to where Ginny and Colin were sitting. "I should go see if Ginny knows. I'll be right back."

He rose from the table and Hermione took the paper back, scanning the rest of the front page.

"There's a bit about you in here, too," she said to Harry without looking up.

"What now?" he asked, gritting his teeth.

_"With a new murder on the Ministry's hands, the Wizarding public is forced to ask once again, is there any hope?"_ she read. _"There is only one who has managed to elude He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named time and again. But while Harry Potter is sequestered at Hogwarts under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore, what hope is there for the rest of us? Are we to rely on the Ministry and Aurors who have so far failed to protect us from this newest onslaught of terror? Must we sit and wait until The Boy Who Lived sees fit to rid us of this darkness once and for all?_

Harry's face turned red and his eyes grew wide. "What hope is there? Sees _fit_?! What do they think I'm doing up here? Hiding behind Dumbledore?"

"Harry!" Hermione whispered loudly, attempting to stem the flow of eyes that were beginning to turn toward them.

His voice dropped to a hiss as he leaned across the table. "I've been training with Dumbledore every month, but we're still no closer to finding him! How much longer am I supposed to sit around here and do nothing? I should be out there, looking for him. I should be hunting him down."

A chill swept over Hermione at his words. "I don't think you need to hunt him down," she countered quietly. "When he's ready, he'll come for you. He always does."

They stared at each other as the weight of their words sunk in, their jaws set in grim acceptance. Ron returned and their eye contact was broken. The three of them resumed their breakfast silently, the weights on their shoulders betraying their desire to maintain an air of normalcy.

Harry looked down the table, seeking out Ginny's coppery hair. He found it, bent low with either exhaustion or sadness, he couldn't tell which, and saw Colin next to her, trying to offer some words of comfort but apparently not doing a stellar job of it. What was he doing anyway? Ginny didn't need some blathering idiot trying to be funny at a time like this. She needed someone who understood, someone who would help her _do_ something about the pain she felt, who would let her get angry. And if there was one thing Harry knew about Ginny, it was that she had righteous anger down to an art form. His legs itched to walk down there and pull her away from him, to see the spark in her eyes as she contemplated this latest loss. But his head argued that he had given up that right; she would only view it as an intrusion.

Harry felt a need for release, a need which, he realized almost immediately, he knew how to fill. Glancing behind him to the Ravenclaw table, he was not surprised to find Ellie already looking at him. They had not been alone together since his accident, but she looked anxious and he saw that she was also holding a _Daily Prophet_ in her hands. She gave him a strained smile, but dropped her eyes quickly before anyone could notice. He resolved not to let the day pass before seeking her out.

Hermione, scanning the rest of the paper as she finished her porridge, paused at a small item on the bottom of page four. She didn't say anything, but glanced up at the Slytherin table in time to see Draco Malfoy striding away and out the door, the paper clutched in his hands. Turning her attention back to the news, she continued to read the Magical Law Enforcement Bulletin.

_"When questioned about the break-in, Mrs. Malfoy insisted that nothing of importance was taken and that her injuries were minor. No further investigation is planned at this time…"_

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The portrait hole to the Ravenclaw storage room swung shut, and Harry shrugged off his invisibility cloak, sitting down on a dusty blue couch to wait. He had slipped Ellie a note at the end of lunch, asking her to meet him here after classes. She hadn't even known about the room when he'd first brought her here, but it had since become one of their favorite spots: secluded, comfortable, and theirs.

He waited with a nervous energy, leaning forward on his knees, clasping and unclasping his hands, until he heard the familiar _tap, tap_ of a wand on the portrait frame. Ellie came through, slightly out of breath, and sealed the hole behind her.

"I'm sorry," she said distractedly, stowing her wand in her robes. "Professor Flitwick kept us late, and then I had to run up to my room and my roommate wanted to chat, and then I…"

"It's okay," Harry said, already on his feet and striding toward her. Her agitated manner threw him off balance for a moment until he reached out to touch her arm. She suddenly stopped rambling and looked up at him.

"Hi," he said into the silence.

"Hi," she said breathlessly as though seeing him for the first time. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Bemused, he hugged her back, savoring the feel of her body against his. But there was a kind of desperation in the way she clung to him that he couldn't place.

"Are you okay?" she whispered into his neck.

"Of course, why?"

She pulled back and scanned his face, caressing his cheek and running her fingers over the faint yellowish bruises that remained. "I was sitting in the Ravenclaw stands when you hit. You hit so hard, I couldn't… I didn't know if…" Her breath hitched. "I was so worried…"

"Hey," he whispered soothingly, searching out her eyes. "I'm fine." He leaned down and kissed her, taking her hands and placing them on his chest, pressing them into him. "See?" he murmured against her lips. "I'm fine."

She dipped her head and buried her face in his neck, feeling the reassuring pulse of his heart as his arms surrounded her. Outside, they heard footsteps approach and pass by the portrait, their owners chatting animatedly. They stood still, wrapped in each other, letting the sounds of the castle envelop them.

"Are you really all that they say you are?" she asked finally. "The hope of the wizarding world? The only one who can defeat… him?"

She looked up into his eyes, and he saw fear and pity and all the things he had come to this room to avoid reflected in her face.

"Are you?" she whispered.

He gave her a penetrating look. "I don't want to be any of those things."

"But you are, aren't you? You're Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes flickered to the portrait hole, the only thing separating them from the world outside. "Not in here," he said, fixing his gaze back on her. "Not when I'm with you."

He could feel her trembling as he leaned in and brushed her lips, but she pulled away. "I can't. I have to go."

"Don't," he breathed as she slipped out of his grasp.

"I can't do this." She moved a few feet away, but then stopped and turned around, her voice becoming frantic. "How can I be with you knowing that at any moment you might be whisked away or battling with Death Eaters or who knows what! I almost died when I saw you hit that pillar; I've never been so scared in my life. But that was nothing, was it? Nothing compared to what you've gone through. You watched Cedric Diggory die, you've fought against You-Know-Who. What was I thinking? You're _Harry Potter_!"

Harry stood dumbfounded and angry. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She didn't understand, didn't understand what it meant to be him. Hermione understood, Ginny understood, why couldn't she?

"You knew who I was when you started this," he said, more calmly than he felt.

"No," she said helplessly. "I didn't."

She turned away and was almost to the portrait hole before he felt his feet move. He caught her and spun her around to face him.

"So that whole 'shutting out the world' thing was just for you then?" he said, his voice rising. "I'm just a convenience to help you forget an old _boyfriend_? Don't you see? This is exactly why _I_ need this too. Why I need _you_."

Ellie was speechless and stared at him with wide eyes. It was then that he became aware of the tight grasp he had on her arms and that in his anger, he was frightening her. He loosened his grip and stepped back, gathering himself together. "I'm sorry," he fumbled. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

But instead of fleeing like he expected her to, she stood silent, numbed by his words, the frenzy drained out of her.

"This is all my fault," she said. "I asked you for this, but I had no idea what I was asking, did I? I was only thinking of myself; I didn't think about what this would mean for _you_." She paused, hugging her arms around her chest. "You must hate me."

Harry clenched his jaw and looked at the floor. He wasn't sure how he felt about her at the moment. He didn't hate her, but it seemed too trite to say so.

"You can go," he said quietly. "I won't ask you to stay if you don't want to."

It was a moment before he heard the rustle of her robes, but he was startled to realize she was moving toward him rather than away, and when she lifted his chin and met his eyes, it was with a new understanding.

"I just want to feel close to someone, to have some relief from real life for a while," she whispered, echoing her words from the forest. "I think you need that, too. Could we do that for each other? For a little while?"

His head filled with doubt and he dropped his eyes. "Ellie…"

"You say you need me just as much as I need you. What kind of person would I be if I left now?"

Harry looked at her and his heart ached with relief. He rubbed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, memorizing her feel, her smell, her kiss. How much longer he could ask for her comfort like this, he didn't know. He knew it was not ideal, not perfect. But for a little while, it would be all right.

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The days ticked by, but for Ginny, time seemed to be going backward. The strain of her renewed connection to Tom was eating away at her sanity; the days became one long struggle against succumbing to his constant prodding. Most times, she could hold him at bay. Her gullible, eleven-year-old self was gone, and she would not allow herself to confide in him, even though he was there in her innermost thoughts. But she feared that without constant vigilance, she would once again be trapped in his swirl of darkness and hunger for power.

In the pale light of the winter days, she hung on to any shred of normality that she could find, filling her thoughts with classes and homework and Quidditch. But at night, there were none of those things to distract her, and when Colin whispered words of love to her, in darkened classrooms or before going to bed, she thought the struggle to maintain her composure must surely be screaming to the world. But he never noticed. Or if he did, he didn't say anything.

As the weeks passed, her excuses cropped up more and more steadily until Colin stopped asking for her time in the evenings and settled for a hurried kiss at the end of the day. She had taken to wandering the castle in the evening hours, begging him to let her be alone for a while, saying she just had some research to do in the library and not to wait up for her. His heart wrenched whenever she walked away from him, but he had been shut out, and he loved her too much to force his company on her when she clearly didn't want it.

Grey clouds raced across the sky one evening as Harry and Ron locked the door to the Quidditch shed and hoisted their brooms over their shoulders, the last ones to leave from their regular weekly practice.

"Where could she be?" Harry asked, not a little hacked off that Ginny had missed practice entirely without so much as a note. "It's not like her."

"No, it's not, and she'd better have a damned good explanation when I find her," Ron said vigorously. "Something's off about her lately. Have you noticed?"

Harry didn't reply, but he _had_ noticed. The way she avoided not just him, but all her friends. Her sullen attitude and the way she held her head in her hands when she thought no one was looking. He didn't like seeing her that way. There was a time when she might have sought him out if she had a problem, and he would have been glad of it. But those days seemed to be gone. In any case, she certainly hadn't confided anything to _him_. But no matter what her problems, she had never missed a Quidditch practice before. That he _could_ do something about.

They braced themselves against the brisk wind and trudged up the hill together when a flash of red caught Harry's eye. Just around the corner of the castle, a lone figure could be seen sitting at the edge of the cliffs, her hair whipping around her. He nudged Ron and pointed in her direction.

"What the…?" Ron exclaimed as the two set off toward her. "Oi, Ginny!" he called when they reached the top of the hill.

She turned around, startled out of her reverie, but her surprise quickly turned to a frown.

"What do you want?" she asked tersely.

"I want to know where you've been for the past two hours, that's what!" Ron bellowed.

"None of your business. Sod off," she said, turning her back to them once more and looking out across the lake.

"Gin, you missed practice," Harry added firmly.

He saw her back stiffen, and she looked around as if only just aware of her surroundings. "What? What time is it?" A panic-stricken look washed over her face as she scrambled to her feet. "Oh, no!" She brushed past them and started down the hill but only went a few paces before she stopped, her eyes roaming over the empty Quidditch pitch in the distance.

"Two hours?" she whispered to herself. "I've been out here for _two bloody hours?_" Her hands grasped her head and she clutched her hair in frustration. Ron exchanged a worried glance with Harry before following her down the hill, leaving Harry to wonder whether he should follow as well or let Ron handle it. He decided on the later.

"Hey," Ron said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "What's up? Why did you miss practice?" She spun around out of his reach, her cheeks flushed from the cold and a wild look in her eye.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a note of concern.

"Do I look okay to you?" she hissed.

"No, but you won't tell anyone what's wrong! Do you think people don't notice when you disappear for hours at a time? Or how you barely say a word to anyone when you are around?"

Ginny crossed her arms and clamped her lips shut. The fire in her eyes might have scared off someone who hadn't grown up with it, but Ron would not be swayed.

"Does this have something to do with Creevey? Because you've been acting strangely ever since the night I found you in that classroom. What was that all about?"

"This has nothing to do with Colin," she said, which was a lie, she knew. But the last thing she needed was for Ron to go haring off after her boyfriend. She had already hurt Colin enough as it was. "This is just something I have to work through on my own. You have to let me handle it."

"Well, you're _not_ handling it, and if you don't _start_ handling it I'm going to have no choice but to force you to talk to someone."

She shot him a warning glance, and he lowered his voice further.

"If you won't talk to me, at least tell Harry or Hermione; maybe they can help you!"

Ginny snorted. "Right. You can't even get Hermione to spend time with _you, _but I'm sure she'd drop everything to help _me_. As for Harry…" She looked past Ron to where Harry had been listening to their argument from a few feet away. "He doesn't care."

Ron threw his hands in the air. "I give up."

Harry met Ginny's eyes, but she looked at him with such bitterness that an anger rose up inside him. He wanted nothing more than to go down there and shake some sense into her, to force her to tell him what was wrong. What right did she have to be angry at him for anything? He had wanted to be her friend, but she couldn't deal with it. So he'd done what he thought was right; he'd pushed aside whatever feelings he had to make things easier for her. Did she think that had been easy for him, to just leave behind what they'd had together? He didn't want to make her life difficult, so he had gone out of his way to avoid upsetting her. Wasn't that what she wanted? This was too much.

He strode toward her, the fire in his eyes matching her own. "Of course I care!" he yelled. "If you would just let us help you instead of shutting everyone out…"

"Don't you dare come over here now after _weeks_ of not speaking to me and pretend that you care!" she yelled back, pouring out all of her hurt and frustration on him. "You avoid me, you brush me off, you can hardly stand to be in the same room with me!"

"Gin, that's not true…" Ron started, but was quickly interrupted.

Harry stared at her incredulously. "I did that for you! You didn't want me around, remember?"

"You did what?" asked Ron, now thoroughly bewildered.

"Oh yes, that's exactly what I needed. For my best friend to desert me! Brilliant!" Ginny spat.

"Oh, I see," Harry nodded, narrowing his eyes. "_Now_ who wants it both ways, huh?"

"Look, I think…" Ron began.

"Shut up!" they yelled at him in unison.

Ginny threw a look of disgust at Harry before turning on her heel and almost running down the hill. In response, Harry mounted his broom, which he had been gripping tightly, and soared in the opposite direction, around the castle and out of sight.

Ron stood in stunned silence, his face creasing in confusion. "Has the whole world gone _mental_?" he asked loudly to no one in particular. But getting no answer, he shook his head and made his way back to the castle.

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Ginny crawled into bed and shut the curtains tight around her. She had skipped dinner, and now the uncomfortable rumbling in her stomach, mixed with the wretched feeling that she'd just alienated the only person who might have been able to help her, was making her feel nauseous.

She burrowed deep into her pillow. She was angry and ashamed; angry that he had had the nerve to lash out at her, and ashamed because he was right. She had brought this on herself. How could she have believed that pushing him away would make things easier? She longed for him desperately; she missed him. He was the only one who could possibly understand what she was going through. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she was afraid to think that the damage she had done to their friendship might be irreparable.

_"Well, well, what have we here?" _The now familiar voice slithered into her consciousness, taking advantage of her vulnerability and exhaustion. "_Harry Potter has rejected you again? What a pity, although I can't say I'm surprised. He never did understand the power that he holds over you. And not to understand one's own power, well, it is such a waste. I would have never treated you this way. Didn't I always listen to you? Wasn't I always here when you needed a shoulder to cry on?"_

A new wave of nausea swept over her. _"What do you want from me, Tom? You can't think that I would be taken in by you again. You're vile and evil and if I could forcibly rip you out of myself, I would." _

_"Now, now, Ginevra, no need to be impertinent. But then, you always were an obstinate little girl. Always fighting against me, forcing me to bend you until you broke when it would have been so much easier if you had given in. Given in to your hatred of Harry. Because you did hate him, didn't you? Hated him for rejecting you and your silly notions of love. Just like you hate him now."_

Ginny buried her face in her pillow to muffle her anguished cry. She would not give in to his lies; she would not give in without a fight.

_"Oh, dear, and now I've made you cry. And you are so very tiresome when you cry, Ginevra. It's weak and I won't stand for it. I will come again when you are… of a more sound mind."_ He laughed at the irony of his own words, and Ginny felt him retreat once again into the recesses of her subconscious.

She lay still, listening to the sound of her own breathing. Her face grew hot from her breath against the pillow, and she turned her head toward the cool air, brushing her hair out of her eyes. The door opened and Maura, Anna, and Abby came in, their voices dropping to a whisper when they noticed Ginny's bed hangings were already closed. They dressed for bed quickly and the room was quiet once again.

Ginny closed her eyes and tried to conjure pleasant images in her head. She wanted to feel…_something._ Something other than this sickness and darkness. The Burrow swam into view. Home. A warm kitchen and her comfortable bedroom. The garden and the lake with the oak tree just beyond. The field of flowers where she had lain as a little girl, soaking in the sun, calling out to Tom, to her friend who had hurt her, who had nearly killed her. Tom. _No_. Harry. She had taken Harry to the field of flowers. They had talked and laughed, and she had reached out to him to feel what he felt. He had let her see inside him, to his core, and his loneliness had made her hopeful and sad all at once.

"Harry," she whispered. If only she could reach out to him now, to feel him again. Could she? She had never deliberately sought out another's feelings, apart from that day in the field, and had always understood Legilicor connections to require eye contact. But she could try.

Her eyes moved beneath their lids, and she tried to picture Harry clearly in her mind. What would he be doing just now? Her mind moved through the castle walls, through the stone and air and into the seventh year boys' room. She had never seen Harry's room, but imagined it must look similar to her own. From her bird's-eye view she looked past the beds where her brother, Neville, Seamus and Dean would all be passed out in their pajamas, their long arms and legs peeking out from their blankets, to the last one where Harry lay, his glasses on the nightstand, one arm hidden under his pillow in sleep. She focused on his tousled hair, on his slackened face, his lips parted slightly. She pushed out to him. What did he feel? Was he peaceful? Restless? Dreaming? But try as she might, she could feel nothing. She could only picture him as if through a glass.

"_Harry,_" her mind sighed once more before she drifted off to sleep.

In the seventh year boys' room, past the beds where his roommates lay snoring and fidgeting in their sleep, Harry opened his eyes with a start.

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_A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews! You guys make my day. For those of you who have asked for more H/G interaction, the next chapter is for you. It is completely, 100 percent Harry and Ginny._


	16. A Dream of You

_A/N: Hey everyone. I'm putting this chapter up early because I'll be away on vacation for the next week. Enjoy and Happy Thanksgiving!_

Chapter 16­ - A Dream of You

In the seventh year boys' room, past the beds where his roommates lay snoring and fidgeting in their sleep, Harry opened his eyes with a start.

"Ginny?" he mumbled. He squinted blearily, unsure of what had woken him.

It soon passed and his eyes dropped closed again. Ghostly shadows flitted in and out of his subconscious. He saw a flash of red, but when he turned, it faded from view; the swish of a cloak, but when he faced it head on, it turned to mist. Murmured conversations beckoned him closer, but then disintegrated into a jumble of nonsense words.

Harry shifted uneasily in his bed, willing his mind to shut down, though some part of his consciousness insisted that he was already asleep.

"_Harry." _There is was again. He turned his mind's eye to the source of the sound and saw Ginny, sitting at the edge of the cliffs, her hair whipping around her. The sky overhead glowed red like a summer sunset, fading to purple as it stretched out over the lake. She leaned forward, teetering on the edge.

_"Ginny, no!"_ he called as she vanished over the side. His heart beat wildly and he started toward to the edge, his limbs slowed by the thick air between them. Reaching the precipice, he fell to his knees, calling her name again. He gripped the crumbling rock and peered down the face of the cliff, searching frantically for her body on the shore below.

But there was no body. He looked to his left, and there was Ginny, calmly descending a staircase carved out of the rock. It was firm beneath her feet and she showed neither fear nor any sign that she had heard his cries. Harry scrambled to his feet and followed her, but the stairs cracked and shifted beneath him as he picked his way gingerly down the cliff.

At the bottom was a small boat rocking back and forth in the dark waves. A hooded figure waited, holding out his hand to help Ginny into the boat. She paused and contemplated him for a moment before refusing his hand and climbing in, seating herself at the helm. The dark figure climbed in behind her and soon they were bound across the lake, into the darkness.

Harry stood at the edge of the lake, the water lapping at his shoes. His breathing was shallow; he looked to his left and right, seeing nothing that would help him to follow them. Far ahead, Ginny turned around in the boat. Their eyes met and he could see her expression clearly, distance being no factor in his awareness of her. She looked worried that he was not following and opened her mouth to call to him, but hesitated as if afraid to alert her companion to his presence.

Harry looked around again, but now saw that he was far out in the lake, surrounded by water. His feet moved over the surface as he pursued the boat, and he wondered at this newfound ability, though it did not seem as impossible as it should have.

The liquid swirled beneath him, reflecting the darkening sky. He heard the sound of something slapping on the water behind him and turned to see another boat floating toward him, carrying a second, happier Ginny and… himself. They were drifting lazily, and she was singing Scarborough Fair; his eyes were closed, a tranquil look on his face.

When they passed him, a smiling Ginny exclaimed, "_Oh, look! There he is! He'll be able to help us for sure."_ She rowed the boat closer to Harry and called out, _"Excuse me, but could you tell us how we got here? We're not quite sure where to go, and the way ahead seems a bit dark."_

Harry stared at her blankly, distracted by their sudden appearance.

The Harry in the boat opened his eyes and surveyed his other self. _"I don't think he knows, Gin. Who is he, anyway? Do you know him?"_

Ginny frowned in thought. _"No, I guess I don't after all."_ She steered the boat away, resuming her singing, and soon they were lost in the mist.

Harry squinted after them until the sound of voices on the far shore caught his attention again. He saw that the boat he had been following was now empty, and Ginny was standing on the shore, the hooded figure behind her, grasping her shoulders and bending close to her ear, even as he kept his gaze fixed on Harry coming toward them.

_"He's missed it, hasn't he?"_ Harry heard the figure sneer. _"Missed his chance. But I haven't. I have been patient, and now I have been rewarded. Haven't I, Ginevra? Haven't I?"_

Harry was close enough now that he could see Ginny's ashen face and the look of abject terror in her eyes.

_"Ginny, get away from him!" _he called out to her_. "Come here, come to me!"_ He held out his arms, but she looked at the water's edge and shrank back from it, further into the arms of her captor. She raised her eyes again and shook her head.

_"You're too late. Why didn't you come? I showed you the way, but you never came!" _she cried out.

A smile crept across the hooded figure's face, and Harry could hear his laugh. It began softly but grew in volume until the figure threw back his head and crowed in triumph. It was then that Harry saw who her captor was.

_"Tom, stop it!"_ Ginny screamed as he clamped his hands around her and began to drag her up the hillside. _"You're hurting me!"_

_"No!"_ Harry yelled. He reached the water's edge and plunged through the trees after them, pushing aside branches with one hand and pulling out his wand with the other. He pointed it at their retreating figures and cried, _"Lumos!"_ The hillside burst into flames, illuminating everything around them. And finally, for the first time, Harry could see clearly.

_"Riddle!"_ he called. _"Leave her! It's me you want!"_

_"Ah, yes."_ Tom's eyes sparkled with evil. _"But what is it that _you_ want, Harry? Is it possible that you don't even know? Do I have to do _everything_ for you?"_ He grasped Ginny's face and clenched her cheeks painfully in his fingers. She opened her mouth to scream when suddenly everything fell silent.

A dark rustling swept overhead, causing all of them to look up in fear and wonder. It circled above them, dousing the light that Harry had conjured, until it settled over them like a shroud. Harry lurched forward, but the darkness pressed against his chest, and his head felt as though it would split in two.

_"Ginny!"_ he screamed.

Harry sat up in bed, his hair damp with sweat against his forehead. He regretted it immediately and lay back down again, holding his hand against his scar and rolling onto his side. Moaning, he waited for his breathing to return to normal and the pain to subside. He wondered at the prickling sensation as he ran his hand over his forehead again. The image of Tom Riddle had never produced pain in him before, not even when he had confronted him face to face in the Chamber of Secrets. He wondered briefly if it could have been Voldemort in his dream. But no, Ginny had called him Tom. And Voldemort didn't even know about Ginny and Tom's connection through the diary. Did he? A shudder ran through Harry as he realized that he didn't know what Voldemort might or might not have been told about Ginny's episode with Tom's diary. He couldn't imagine that Lucius Malfoy would have been keen to admit his failure to Voldemort, but there were other ways in which the story might have reached him.

Ginny. It was no wonder he had dreamed about something so awful as Tom Riddle holding her captive again when she had been so distant lately, so withdrawn. He worried about her, wanted to protect her, wanted her to confide in him. If only she weren't so stubborn! The clenching in his gut uncoiled slowly as he became more aware of his surroundings. It was only a dream, after all. Ginny was in no danger from Riddle; Harry had seen to that when he'd destroyed the diary nearly five years before.

It was useless to try falling back asleep now, he told himself. He parted his bed hangings quietly, reached for his glasses, and crept over to the water jug stand, pouring himself a cup and splashing some on his face before drinking the rest. He reached for his bathrobe, pulling it on against the chill of the room, and headed out the door toward the common room where he thought he might sit in front of the fire for awhile until he felt sleepy again.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was surprised to see the fire was already lit. Surely no one else could still be up at this hour. He made his way toward the couch, not noticing the figure hunched on the floor in front of it until he was nearly on top of her. She was hugging her knees and bent low over them so that he could only see the top of her head. It was the same way she had looked when he'd found her with Ron in that empty classroom.

"Ginny?" he asked, coming around to the front of the couch. "What are you doing?"

She looked up, startled by the sound of his voice. He could see that her face was pale even in the firelight, and she stared at him for a moment before asking, "Did I wake you?"

"N-No, I just… couldn't sleep." He sank down onto the velvety cushions and stared into the fire, his eyes heavy.

Neither said anything more as the flames crackled and hissed, but a peace washed over Ginny as she sat there. Just his presence, just the nearness of his leg behind her shoulder was enough to make her heart feel a little more whole again.

Harry watched her sitting motionless. It was a good sign, he thought, that she hadn't run away from him the minute he'd opened his mouth. He wondered how many other nights she had spent down here, sitting alone in front of the fire.

"I had a dream," he said quietly. "It was awful and I couldn't get back to sleep, so I came down here."

She turned her head just a fraction to show she had heard him, but said nothing. Encouraged, he continued.

"You were in it. You were at the lake and I called out to you, but you couldn't hear me. So I followed you and there was this other man there. I couldn't see who he was, but he took you across the lake in this boat. I went after you, and then he grabbed you and he was hurting you and I couldn't…" His voice faltered. "And then you started screaming and I saw that it was Tom Riddle. He was the one who had you and he was dragging you away and I…"

A lump formed in his throat as the emotions of the dream came at him again.

"I watched him hurt you and it just about killed me, but I couldn't get to you. This darkness was pressing in on me and I couldn't…"

She hadn't moved. The whole time he was speaking, she hadn't moved a muscle. He couldn't see her heart racing, or her mind trying desperately to make sense of what he was saying, or the fear seeping slowly through her. All he could see was indifference and distance and walls. He didn't know what else he could do to reach out to her. So he stopped.

"But I guess you can take care of yourself." He stooped forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I guess that's what you've been trying to tell me all along. Well, I get it," he said bitterly. "I won't bother you anymore."

He stood up, brushing his leg against her as he rounded the couch, causing her to look up. She watched him retreat into the darkness, and her heart cried out for him much more loudly than the strained whisper that left her mouth.

"Harry, don't go."

He stopped and turned, trying valiantly to reel in his emotions. "Why shouldn't I?"

She stood and their eyes met. She was dressed in warm flannel pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved t-shirt, but she looked cold and naked as she hugged her arms around herself. "Because I saw it too, and I need you, and I'm scared to death."

He blinked. "You what?"

"I had the same dream."

Harry moved slowly toward her, his eyes never leaving hers, until they were standing face to face. He looked down at her intently, searching.

"What did you see?"

"Everything. I saw you following us and I could feel Tom's hands around me and that awful, awful laughing. You cast _Lumos_ and then the darkness came. It was in me and through me and I…"

She was shaking, but her eyes were steady, as if breaking their connection would be disastrous to them both.

"How?" Harry breathed. "How could we have had the same dream?"

"I don't know, but if we did, maybe it wasn't just a dream. Maybe it was… _real_."

"It can't have been real," Harry reasoned. "Tom Riddle doesn't exist anymore."

Ginny swallowed hard and bit her lip. It was a rare gesture, but Harry had seen it before and knew that she only did it when she was hiding something.

"What?" he asked, apprehension creeping into his voice. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

A look of regret passed over her face, and she shifted on her feet uneasily. "Remember when I told you about the clearing by the lake at the Burrow, how I used to go there after my first year?" He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Well, I didn't tell you everything."

Her eyes did drop away from his then, and he saw her withdrawing into herself. He grasped her shoulders. "Ginny, look at me. Tell me."

She brought her eyes back to his, then took a deep breath and exhaled, sinking onto the couch, her head in her hands. He sat down next to her and waited. She fidgeted with her hands, ran them through her hair, and clasped them in front of her. Then, very slowly, she began to talk.

"When I woke up… in the Chamber… I looked for him. After all he'd done to me, after all the pain I'd caused because of him… I still felt lost without him. I knew something had changed. I saw you, covered in blood, and you were holding my diary… his diary, I mean… and it was destroyed. All of my words, all of my soul that I had poured out to him… gone. It was at that moment that I realized the magnitude of what I'd done, and what you'd gone through to save me, and I was so disgusted and ashamed and scared out of my mind."

"Gin…" Harry whispered, laying a comforting hand on her back, but she shook her head and continued.

"But I still looked for him. I wanted him. Not the boy that had taken me over and forced me to do all those awful things, but the boy who was my friend." She stopped and gave an incredulous laugh. "I can't even believe I'm saying that out loud; it seems so unbelievable now that I could think of him as anything other than a lying, deceiving, evil thing, but that's really how I felt. I didn't have any friends, not really. I was at Hogwarts for the first time…"

"You had _us_," Harry said with a twinge in his voice.

She turned and gave him a sad smile, then looked back down at her hands. "What, Ron's tag-along little sister who got all tongue-tied and embarrassed at the mere mention of you? No. You were so sweet not to mind, but you weren't my friends. Not yet."

Harry frowned, but knew that she was right, so he said nothing further.

"But then I found this diary. And I wrote in it. And it_ wrote back._ I told him everything, Harry, _everything_, and he _listened_ to me. All those years when you were at your aunt and uncle's in that dreadful house with no friends, didn't you ever wish you had someone who would listen to you, who you could share secrets with and who would make you feel special? You came to Hogwarts and found Ron and Hermione. I found Tom."

"But he betrayed you; he betrayed all of us. How can you still…"

"I know what he is," she said firmly. "I know it more deeply than you can ever imagine, and I live with it every day. But back then, that little girl in the Chamber… I was so lost and confused, and then my parents swept in and took me home. That summer, I hated being in the house. I felt so closed in; my parents were always watching me. I felt like I would go insane, so I would convince them to let me go outside by myself, just to get some fresh air and sunshine. Mum thought it would do me good, so she was willing to let me go. I would fly on my broom to the field of flowers. I had told Tom about it, told him all about the Burrow, in fact, and he said he wished he could see it someday." She moaned into her hands. "Oh, Harry, I was so stupid, how could I have been so…"

She took a deep breath and gathered herself to go on. "But I felt close to him there. It almost felt like he was still with me. I would go there and lay in the field for hours. Sometimes I would fall asleep; once or twice mum sent Ron to find me. But I would always call out to him, wishing for him to come back to me."

Harry's brow creased with concern. "But he didn't, Gin, he couldn't have. All of that is over now."

She lapsed into silence, staring into the fire. She couldn't go on, couldn't tell him that even though he had risked his life to save her in the Chamber, it had all been for naught. He hadn't destroyed Tom at all. It would be exactly what Tom wanted, for Harry to know that he still existed, still ate away at her, and there was nothing Harry could do about it. But she was damned if she would put Harry's life in jeopardy again.

Harry looked at her profile with its worried frown and wondered what other memories were lurking in her head. It unnerved him to think that there were still so many things about her that he didn't know. He was startled by the admission of how deep her connection was to Tom all those years ago, but something else still nagged at his mind. "But none of this explains why we had the same dream tonight."

Ginny rubbed her forehead and sighed tiredly. "I think I know why." She stood up and began to pace in front of the fire, knowing that he deserved an explanation. Legilicor or not, she had overstepped her bounds and had sought out his emotions with no thought as to how it might affect him. She stopped and faced him, playing with her fingers nervously while he waited for her answer.

"Earlier today when you and Ron found me on the cliffs… well, I wasn't quite myself, and I said some things that I didn't mean."

Harry looked embarrassed. "Yeah, me too," he admitted.

"You and I haven't exactly been… as close as we used to be. But I know a lot of that was my own fault," she added quickly when he opened his mouth to protest. "After our fight today I felt so horrible." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she fought not to let the tears spring to her eyes. "I've missed you so much."

Harry was on his feet in seconds. "Gin, I've…" But she backed away just out of his reach and held up her hand. She needed to get this out.

"I was lying in my bed, wondering if there was any hope of us ever being friends again, and I… I thought if I could just reach out to you, to see if I could tell what you were feeling… just to _feel_ you with me again…" She crossed her arms over her chest, protecting herself from the anger Harry would surely feel had having been invaded in such a way.

But all he said was, "Did you? Feel me?"

She looked up at him in surprise and shook her head. "I didn't think so; I couldn't feel _anything_, so I went to sleep. But now I think that I must have made a connection with you somehow. Maybe subconsciously? And through that connection, you were able to see my dream."

"I heard you call me," he said suddenly, as if just remembering.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "You did?"

Harry nodded. "I think that's what woke me up. Then I went back to sleep and that's when the dream started." He moved toward her slowly until he was standing very close, his brow still furrowed in thought. "Why would you dream about Tom Riddle after all this time?"

She couldn't quite meet his eyes as she mumbled, "I don't know."

"I hated watching him hurt you like that. It felt like you were just drifting farther and farther away…" Harry's words caught in his throat. He reached out and put his hands on her arms gently, pulling her close enough that he could feel her warm breath. A sudden urge to take her in his arms and never let her go came over him.

"Gin," he began, not sure if it was fair of him to ask, but feeling a need to know. "When you were in the Chamber, when Riddle came out of the diary before I got there… Did he hurt you then?"

She looked into his eyes, so close now that she could see the firelight dancing in them, and felt the strength to continue draining out of her. "Harry, you don't need to…"

"Did he?" he asked again.

"I was so weak when he took form, I was almost dead." She shuddered under his touch.

"Ginny…" he pressed.

"He didn't touch me. Not physically, if that's what you mean. But yes, he hurt me… in other ways," she whispered. She shut her eyes against the memory of the mental torture that Tom had inflicted on her and the image of her body lying cold on the Chamber floor. She felt Harry's arms surround her as she buried her head into his neck, hugging him back with all her might.

"I've missed you, too," he whispered.

They stood in silence for a long moment, healing the rift between them, until finally, Ginny lifted her head.

"I'm so tired, but I'm afraid to go back to sleep," she said.

"Then I'll stay with you," he said without hesitation.

She didn't argue, but allowed him to guide her back to the couch where she lay down and curled her arms beneath her head. Harry sat on the floor in front of her and rested his head on the cushion next to hers, smoothing her hair back from her face.

"Don't leave me, Harry," she murmured.

"I won't."

"Don't leave me ever," she whispered as her eyes slid closed.

"I won't, Gin, I promise."

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The next morning, Harry awoke with a crick in his neck as the pale light filtered into the common room. He looked around only to find Ginny gone and Hermione sitting on the couch regarding him curiously.

"Rough night?" she asked with a trace of a smile.

Disoriented, his eyes darted around the empty room, finally remembering how he had come to be sleeping on the floor. "Oh," he croaked, "I just came down here to sit by the fire for a while. Must have fallen asleep." He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock. I was just heading down for an early breakfast," she said, clutching a stack of books in her arms.

"Aren't you going to wait for Ron?" he asked, scratching his scalp absently in an attempt to wake himself up.

Hermione sighed. "I was hoping to have some time to myself today, a little peace and quiet, you know? And being with Ron lately… well… it hasn't exactly been peaceful _or_ quiet. I don't know, maybe I'll go sit in the library for a while after I eat; it'll be quiet there." She gave him a small smile and stood up. "See you later."

"See you," he said.

"Oh, and Harry?" she called over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"You'll want to do something about that hair."

He made a face and ran his fingers through his messy mop, which he could feel was sticking out at all angles. As the portrait hole closed behind Hermione, he pushed himself up and made his way to the boys' staircase, pausing at the bottom to look behind him across the room, remembering the night before. A contented smile played on his lips. He cast a quick glance toward the girls' stairs, then turned and climbed to his room.

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_A/N: Up next… the answer to the question, "What the heck is going on with Ron and Hermione?"_


	17. Never Enough

Chapter 17 - Never Enough

"Are you coming to breakfast?" Maura asked on her way out of the dormitory.

Ginny turned from the mirror above her dresser where she had been brushing her hair. "In a minute, I'll meet you down there."

The girls filed out, leaving a peaceful silence in their wake, and Ginny turned back to her reflection. Despite the faint circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, her cheeks were rosy and her face had a certain sparkle. She had awoken on the couch in the early morning hours and looked instinctively for Harry, finding him curled on the floor below her like a sentry fallen asleep at his post. She'd watched him as his side rose and fell in an even rhythm, her eyes drifting over the arms that had surrounded and comforted her, before getting up and creeping softly past him to her room, thinking it would be unwise for anyone to discover them together once the rest of the house began to stir.

She smiled softly and a lightness surrounded her that she hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time.

"I was afraid your smile had gone," the mirror observed. "So nice to see it back again."

Ginny grinned. "I think so, too."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped lightly down the stairs, striding halfway across the common room before noticing Colin standing against the wall near the portrait hole. He wore a cautious smile as she approached.

"I'm sorry, were you waiting for me?" she asked, stopping in front of him and readjusting the strap on her shoulder.

He nodded. "Maura said you were coming down, so I thought maybe we could walk together. If it's alright with you, that is," he added hesitantly.

Ginny said nothing for a moment, feeling a bit abashed. Even though he didn't… couldn't… understand all that she had been going through, Colin had still tried to be a friend to her. It wasn't his fault that she had pushed him away. She looked into his eyes and saw that his concern and love were still there.

"I'd like that."

He smiled down at her and lifted the bag from her shoulder, slinging it over his own. As they climbed through the portrait hole and started down the hallway, he turned.

"You look different today."

"I _feel _different," she said. "I feel good."

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Good," he said simply, not wanting to dwell on the matter further.

As they entered the Great Hall, she looked for Harry's dark head along the Gryffindor table, but was disappointed to see neither him nor Ron or Hermione in their usual spot. The tug of Colin's hand brought her attention back to him and they sat down, tucking in to sausages and eggs in companionable silence.

Outside, Harry and Ron had just reached the bottom of the marble staircase and made their way into the noisy Hall.

"So she didn't say why she was coming down early?" Ron asked for the third time. "Did she have patrol duty or something? She could have waited…" he grumbled.

Harry shrugged, not feeling up to mediating the saga that was Ron and Hermione's relationship at the moment. They sat down across from each other and began pulling plates toward them.

"Do you know how long it's been since we've even had a proper snog?" Ron continued, ignoring a startled look from Parvati to his left.

"Ron, I really don't need to hear this," Harry said, stuffing his mouth with bacon.

Ron mumbled to himself but thankfully didn't offer any more details as Harry let his gaze wander around the room, making unconscious mental notes of certain people as he often did during meals: Draco Malfoy holding court at the Slytherin table with Pansy at his side; Ellie doing some last minute reading at the Ravenclaw table; Dumbledore chatting with Professor McGonagall from their perch at the head of the room; Ginny eating quietly next to Colin. He let his gaze rest on this last scene for a moment until she happened to look up and their eyes met. He fought the urge to look away and instead gave her a small smile. She smiled back and they shared a moment, just for the two of them, before she lowered her eyes. She fidgeted with the food on her plate, then glanced back at him once more before turning to listen to something Colin was saying.

Harry took a deep breath and turned back to his breakfast.

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"Very good, Harry!" said Professor Dumbledore, lowering his wand after putting his student through a quick succession of mental and physical exercises. "Your instincts have much improved, and you are beginning to appreciate that your wand is not the only weapon you posses." He tapped a crooked finger on his temple. "Never underestimate the power of the mind; not even the deepest magics can fathom it."

Harry, rather more out of breath from his training than Dumbledore seemed to be, straightened up and managed a "Thank you, sir," before taking the Ice Pop that the headmaster held out to him. It refreshed his mouth and sent cool liquid streaming down his throat.

"Professor, do you have a moment?"

Dumbledore glanced at the door before settling himself in his chair. "I am expecting someone shortly, but yes, Harry, what is it?"

Harry sucked on his Ice Pop thoughtfully, considering how to best phrase his question.

"Have you ever known a Legilicor, sir?"

If Dumbledore thought this an odd question, his expression did not betray it. He smiled as if recalling a pleasant memory. "Yes, I have known a few," he said simply.

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "Are they rare?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Not especially. Though it is rare to find one who knows how to use the ability to its fullest extent. I have heard that Helga Hufflepuff was an accomplished Legilicor and became a valued counselor to the witches and wizards who studied under her. Have you met someone possessing these gifts, Harry, or do you ask merely out of curiosity?"

Harry chewed on the inside of his lip and frowned, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to be completely truthful either.

"I was just wondering. I've… heard of them and just wondered if it's anything like Legilimency."

Dumbledore paused and considered Harry over his spectacles. "Legilicors can sense or experience another person's situation and feelings. They are highly empathic and tend to be women, although men have also been known to possess the ability. However, unlike Legilimency, which can be learned and mastered, Legili_crency_ is an inherent trait."

"So, it's not something you can learn or develop then? It's just a feeling you have?"

Dumbledore stood and walked slowly to the stand where Fawkes was perched, the phoenix's feathers ruffling slightly under its master's touch. "A true Legilicor can not only sense feelings and emotions, Harry. They can enter into those feelings and experience them vicariously; they may even incorporate another's emotions into their own selves. Because of this, they have an aptitude for establishing mental connections and can be vulnerable to possession. I believe it is possible that some may have this ability with animals as well, though I have never seen it done."

He stroked Fawkes' feathers and looked into the bird's eyes curiously. "Oh, to understand what you have felt, my old friend. That would be quite something." He smiled affectionately as Fawkes nuzzled his finger, then turned back to Harry.

"It takes much practice to mask our thoughts and memories in the face of an experienced Legilimens, but it is harder still to mask our true feelings, regardless of how much we might want to deny them. They are what make up our spirit, the essence of who we are. It is one thing to have power over the mind, but quite another to have power over the heart."

"Would a Legilicor be of any use to Voldemort?" Harry asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Voldemort has little use for feelings, Harry, unless they are hatred and revenge. But even as a student, Tom Riddle was a master manipulator. He could take the smallest sign of greed or hatred in another and turn it into unswerving loyalty to himself. That is the essence of evil, is it not; the power to make what is wicked and vile appear to be noble and good? As to your question, Lord Voldemort is quite capable of spreading his hatred into the hearts and minds of others without the use of a Legilicor, I can assure you," he said, returning to his seat.

"It is a bit unnerving to have one's innermost feelings so thoroughly examined by another," Dumbledore continued knowingly.

"Yes, it is," Harry mumbled, causing the headmaster's eyebrows to raise a hair.

"There is, in fact, at least one Legilicor that I am aware of at Hogwarts now."

Harry's eyes shot up and met Dumbledore's. "A student?"

"I am not at liberty to say, though I believe you know her," he said, and Harry thought he saw the flicker of a twinkle in his eye.

A knock came at the door, interrupting their conversation. Dumbledore rose and Harry reluctantly did the same.

"A word of advice, Harry," the headmaster said quietly as they walked toward the door. "The ability to sense emotions is not the same as understanding or interpreting those feelings accurately, especially in one with little experience at it. It can be a heavy burden at times and should be treated with care."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir."

The door opened to reveal Draco Malfoy waiting on the other side. Both boys stood a little straighter, always putting each other on their guard.

"Ah, Draco." Dumbledore waved his Head Boy inside with an outstretched arm, ignoring the ever-present tension between the two. "On time as always. Please come in."

Draco walked confidently into the office, looking over his shoulder at Harry once more before taking his seat.

"A pleasant evening to you, Harry," the headmaster said genially but firmly as the door shut, leaving Harry at the top of the winding stairs. He frowned at the door and made a mental note to ask Hermione something later, chewing his thumbnail absently as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Dumbledore turned and settled himself behind his desk with a serious expression. "What news, Draco? I trust Professor Snape has filled you in on the plans for the Christmas holidays?"

Draco resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat and met the headmaster's eyes steadily. "Yes, sir."

"And are you…comfortable with what we are proposing?"

Draco raised his eyebrows coolly. "Do I have a choice?"

Dumbledore tapped a finger broodingly on his desk before meeting Draco's questioning gaze again. "Normally I would say that there is always a choice. But in this case," he sighed, "no, it would not appear that you do."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Hermione!" Harry called the next day, spotting her bushy ponytail through the crowded corridors and jostling his way toward her.

"Hey," she smiled, waiting for him to catch up.

"Are you on a break? Come out to the courtyard with me for a minute."

She shifted the heavy load of books in her arms. "Well… I…" she stopped short at the impatient look on his face. "Oh, alright, just for a minute."

They stepped out into the frosty air and found a secluded corner, Harry looking around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"What's up?" Hermione asked.

"Had a lesson with Dumbledore yesterday," he began.

"Yes, I know. How did it go?"

"Fine," he said distractedly. "Listen, do you ever have special meetings with Dumbledore because you're Head Girl?"

She wrinkled her brow. "Yes, every week with Draco; you know that."

Harry was momentarily taken aback. "What did you say?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and readjusted the books in her arms. "I said every week with Malfoy. _Why?_"

Harry frowned slightly but decided to let it pass. "No, I mean just you, without Malfoy."

Now it was Hermione's turn to frown. "No, why would I?"

"Because Malfoy does."

"No he doesn't," she said, confused.

"I've seen him, Hermione, just before or after my lessons; it's happened twice."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, so what? I'm sure Dumbledore meets with lots of students individually about one thing or another."

"It's the 'one thing or another' I'm worried about."

"Harry, don't be silly. I've told you before, he's not up to anything." The bell sounded throughout the castle signaling the start of Hermione's Ancient Runes class. "Oh, I have to go. Bye!"

Harry leaned his shoulder against the cold wall. Hermione was probably right, but he couldn't help it; he didn't trust Malfoy.

Having a free period, he stood deciding what to do next when he noticed a small, yellow butterfly fluttering toward him. Odd, he thought, to see a butterfly in the middle of winter. It wasn't until it had almost landed on his nose that he saw it was not real but a paper note, folded and enchanted to fly. He snatched it out of the air and opened it. It was blank but for some smaller butterflies floating around its edge and the words "Tap your wand here" written in the middle.

Harry looked out across the courtyard to see where the note had come from, and his eyes fell on the smiling face of Ellie, carefully watching him from the other side of the square. She winked at him and his heart skipped a beat. Quickly fishing his wand out of its holster, he tapped the page. The words melted away and were replaced by a longer note written in Ellie's loopy handwriting.

_Hey handsome, I've enchanted this note to be for your eyes only, so no worries about it falling into the wrong hands. I'm supposed to be practicing Concealment Charms for Prof. Flitwick, but all I can think about is you. I miss you… and your lips… and your hands…_

_Our place, tonight, 8pm._

_E._

Harry blushed and his pulse quickened. He looked up and Ellie smiled at him before disappearing into the crowd. Reading the note again, his mind wandered, wondering what it would be like if he and Ellie were really a couple, not hiding but strolling through the corridors hand in hand, taking long walks by the lake, taking her out to lunch at the Three Broomsticks. A wistful smile crept across his face.

"Why are you staring at a blank piece of paper?"

"Huh?" Harry was startled out of his daydream by Ron, who had come to stand beside him and was looking over his shoulder.

"Hey, that looks like the writing paper I almost bought for Ginny," Ron said with a sly grin. "Did some girl give it to you?"

"Just… uh… found it on the ground," Harry said, crumpling the paper and stuffing it into the pocket of his robes. "C'mon, it's freezing out here."

Harry strode across the yard and into the castle with Ron close at his heels and all thoughts of Malfoy forgotten.

------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, Harry stepped through the portrait hole, sweaty and tired, his Firebolt slung over his shoulder. The common room was scattered with people chatting and revising. Ginny had returned from practice ahead of him and was now lounging on the couch, reading. She looked up from her book and smiled; he raised his hand in a silent hello and trudged up the stairs to his room. Half an hour later, after a scalding shower to relax his aching muscles, he returned to the common room dressed in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt under his school robes. Sinking onto the couch next to Ginny, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the cushions.

"That was a good practice," she said, setting her book aside.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"Sophie's getting better with that new play, her arm is getting stronger."

"You three looked good out there; we shouldn't have any problem with Hufflepuff on Saturday."

The room was mostly empty now, everyone having drifted toward the Great Hall for dinner.

"Want to go down and get something to eat?" she asked.

"In a bit."

They sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire. The portrait hole opened and Harry heard two sets of footsteps come in, one rushing across the room, the other trailing behind. Ginny nudged his leg and he opened his eyes. She gestured to somewhere behind him and he turned in time to see Ron stomping up the stairs angrily. Hermione walked to the armchair next to Ginny and slumped into it, holding her head in her hands.

"What happened?" asked Ginny cautiously.

"We had a row," Hermione said, not looking up and sounding exhausted.

"Worse than your usual rows?" Ginny said.

Hermione nodded. She looked up and opened her mouth to speak, but broke off when she noticed Harry for the first time. "Oh, Harry… could you…"

He looked at her expectantly, then at Ginny. Surely they couldn't want him to leave again after he'd just gotten comfortable. Ginny widened her eyes at him and inclined her head toward the boys' dormitory. He exhaled loudly and rolled off the couch, disappearing up the stairs.

Ginny turned back to Hermione. "So?"

"Oh," Hermione moaned, "I just don't know if I can do it anymore, Gin. I love him, but he's driving me crazy."

This, of course, was not news to Ginny, so she kept quiet and waited for Hermione to continue.

"I met him down at the Quidditch pitch after practice. I thought we could go to the library together and do revision for our Transfiguration exam on Monday. And he said he was tired, so I said maybe after dinner then. And then he got all defensive and said we could do it tomorrow, but I really wanted to get a jump on it and… well, we just got into a huge row and he said it was the weekend and we should go do something fun, and I accused him of slacking off, and he said all I care about is schoolwork." She paused to take a deep breath before plunging on.

"I just thought we could be together and get some revising done at the same time. Is that so awful? I mean, it's NEWTs this year! I like doing well at school, I like being top of my class. I could never slack off and just go out and have fun with all that work hanging over my head. I'd just be distracted. And I like helping him; I like seeing that light go on in his head when he really gets something we've been working on. But he doesn't understand; he just thinks I'm nagging him, trying to change him into someone that he's not." Her hands waved wildly in the air. "What is it with boys and change anyway? Why are they so stubborn? Do they think they can just stay as they are forever and never have to grow up?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead, and her voice softened. "Am I really so horrible for wanting that?"

Ginny had been listening intently, her heart going out to her friend. Harry was not the only one she had been avoiding, she realized, and she suddenly missed that sisterly bond that she and Hermione had sometimes shared. She reached over and grasped the other girl's hand.

"Hermione, let me tell you a little bit about Ron."

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Harry could hear a methodic pounding coming from his room as he climbed the stairs. He opened the door and saw Ron standing by his bed, throwing a small, toy Quaffle repeatedly against the wall, catching it as it bounced back. Ron turned briefly to look at Harry before resuming his throwing.

"What do you want?" he asked. But rather than the anger that Harry had expected, he sounded sad and defeated.

Harry shrugged. "Ginny sent me up here."

"What for?"

"Wanted to talk to Hermione, I guess." Harry lay down on his bed, his arms behind his head.

"Well, if it will keep Hermione from talking to me, then that's just fine."

Harry didn't question any further. For one thing, he didn't have the energy for yet another conversation about Ron and Hermione's bickering, and for another, he knew Ron would talk about it if he wanted to without any prodding from him.

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Hermione met Ginny's eyes, waiting. Ginny explained, "When you're the youngest of six boys, there's not much that you get to call your own. Bill and Percy were Head Boys. Charlie was aces at Quidditch. Even Fred and George are quite unique… in their own special way. That's not just one tough act to follow, it's _five_. And you know what mum's like. She says she's impartial, but she's always comparing them."

"But Ron's a prefect," reasoned Hermione, "and he's on the Quidditch team. I know if he just worked a little harder…"

"Hermione, you're an only child," Ginny interrupted. "But don't you see, he's not been the first one to do those things in our family. Not even the second. Throw in the fact that Harry Potter is your best friend and you're dating the smartest witch in… well, ever… and what's he got left? He's funny, he's loyal, he's overprotective, he's selfish, he says exactly what he thinks and you always know where you stand with him. Yes, he's a prat sometimes, but he's a real friend. Who he _is _is really all he has. And I think sometimes he feels like you're trying to take that away from him, like it's not good enough for you."

Hermione sat back in her chair, taking in what Ginny said.

"Hermione, he's my brother and I love you both, but he deserves to be happy."

Hermione's eyes snapped up. "Of course he does. I want him to be happy."

"Can you do that for him?" Ginny asked softly.

Hermione turned to stare into the fire, contemplating. Finally, she whispered, "I don't know."

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After several minutes of wall pounding, Ron sat down on his bed, rolling the toy ball between his fingers. "I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe we're just too different. Maybe I was stupid to think that she could really like me."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. He had seen Ron angry at Hermione before, furious even, but never like this. "So, it really was that bad then."

Ron looked up, agitated. "In all the time we've known Hermione, have you ever really seen her relax?" Ron asked. "Even when the rest of us are just kicking back and having fun, she's always got her nose in a book or she's working out some problem. The wheels are spinning in her head all the time."

Harry thought this was a bit of an exaggeration, but he could see Ron's point. Hermione could be very intense, which had served them well with all the obstacles the three of them had faced over the years, but it could also be exhausting to try and keep up with her.

Ron went on. "It's like the only time she's really happy is when she's puzzled out something; you know, how her whole face lights up when she's finally got the answer. Just once I'd like to see her face light up like that when she looks at me. And not because she's just taught me something or she wants to tell me about some discovery she's made, I mean just because it's_ me_." He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, pacing the room. "I just wish she wouldn't be so…"

"So Hermione?" Harry offered.

"You're not helping," Ron snapped.

"Look Ron, we've known her for what, seven years now. You two have bickered like an old married couple from day one. Did you think all of that would just stop once you got together?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe. Stupid, huh. Why does this have to be so hard? How can we have known each other for so long and still not understand each other?"

"You're not stupid," said Harry wearily. "But are you sure you can do this with her? Have a relationship? Maybe you have too much of a history for that." He sighed. "Ron, she's _my_ friend, too. And if you keep going like this and it doesn't work, you're going to break her heart and she's going to lose her best friend. Well, one of them anyway."

Ron cast a shrewd glance at Harry. "Is that what you're doing with Ginny?"

Harry paused. "What do you mean?"

"You think that if you try it and it doesn't work, you're going to lose her?" Ron saw that he had struck a nerve, but Harry wouldn't be sidetracked.

"Ginny's with Colin. Besides, we're not talking about me, we're talking about Hermione. I don't want to see her get hurt, especially not by you."

The corner of Ron's mouth turned up slightly. "I thought the role of overprotective brother was my department."

Harry snorted. "I learned from the best. Just be careful with her."

Ron stared at him for a moment before adding quietly, "Same to you."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute or two before Harry asked, "Are you going to go down and talk to her?"

"Why should _I_ be the one?" Ron started defensively. "She's the one who…"

"_Ron_." Harry eyed him dangerously, and he reluctantly gave in.

"Fine," he mumbled. He stood and crossed the room, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder. Harry nodded and waited until Ron had opened the door before following him out and down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, the girls looked up from their place in front of the fire, just as Harry had left them. Ginny stood and backed away quickly, leaving nothing between Ron and Hermione's locked eyes, each waiting for the other to say something.

"Um…" Ron finally began, clearing his throat. "We should probably talk."

Hermione looked down at her fingers. "Yeah," she said quietly. She looked up at Harry leaning against the boys' doorway, but his face offered neither advice nor comfort. She stood and her knees wobbled unsteadily. "Where…"

"Let's just…" Ron motioned toward the portrait hole. She nodded and moved quickly toward it, Ron following her out.

Harry stared after them until a sound from Ginny brought his attention back.

"And I thought _Weasleys_ were stubborn," she said, crossing her arms.

Harry gave a short laugh. "Really? I had no idea."

"Oh, you're so funny." She rolled her eyes and strode over to him, tugging his arm. "C'mon. They may be missing dinner, but I'm not."

Harry smirked at her impatience. He pushed away from the wall and followed her, silently thankful that he wasn't in Ron's shoes.

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They found an empty classroom and shut the door. Hermione folded her arms and leaned against a desk while Ron paced back and forth across the front of the room.

It was beginning to irritate her.

"Well?" she asked.

Ron stopped and looked at her. "Well, what, Hermione?" he asked helplessly. "What else is there to say?"

She frowned. "I don't know."

"It's not supposed to be like this," he whispered.

"What is it supposed to be like?" she asked quietly.

"It's supposed to be you and me, together. Not… not _this_."

Hermione looked down at the floor and shook her head. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I just want you to _be_ with me." Ron's voice grew stronger as he moved toward her. "That's all I ever wanted, but it's not enough for you. It's never enough; _I'm_ not enough!"

"Ron, stop shouting, someone will hear!" she whispered loudly.

"Oh, bloody hell, Hermione… _Silencio!_" He pointed his wand at the door and cast the silencing charm around it.

Satisfied that they couldn't be heard, Hermione pushed away from the desk and stood to face him. "It's not just about _you_. I'm not just your girlfriend, I'm a _person_ who wants to experience all that I can and take advantage of new opportunities, but the things that I love are just not important to you!"

"They _are_ important to me. But so is Quidditch, and having fun, and spending time with my friends… and spending time with you!"

"Ron, there's more to life than Quidditch and snogging! There's a whole world of new things out there that you're not even willing to grab hold of!"

"And there's more to life than books and study and achievement and success, Hermione! I'm not saying that those are bad things, but look at yourself. You're running around like a madwoman and you won't take the time to just stop and look around you and see what you're missing! This is it; this is our last year at Hogwarts. After this it's jobs and bills and _life_, and I don't want to look back on our time here and find that I spent it with my nose shoved in a _book!_"

A look of hurt flashed across Hermione's face. Her eyes left his as she ran a hand over her forehead. "This isn't working; we can't keep going on like this. _I_ can't. I'm tired, Ron. Tired of being on pins and needles all the time, tired of fighting."

Ron fell silent. He reached out his hand toward her cheek, but she stopped him with a shake of her head and turned away.

Ron's hand dropped limply to his side and he exhaled loudly. "I can't do this anymore either." His footsteps echoed through the room as he headed for the door.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Don't, Hermione. Just… don't."

It wasn't until he had gone that her eyes welled with tears, but whether it was from heartbreak or relief, she couldn't tell. Maybe it was a little of both.


	18. The Three of Us

Chapter 18 - The Three of Us

Harry and Ron sat by the window in the common room attempting to complete their Charms essays without the books they needed. Ever since their breakup, Ron had imposed a strict ban on the library, saying that since Hermione loved it so much, she could have it all to herself. It was working well for keeping the two apart, but not so well for getting schoolwork done.

Harry looked up from his parchment. "Why don't I just go and…"

"No," Ron said, scribbling furiously. What he could possibly be writing, Harry didn't know.

"But I could just bring the books back here…"

"_No_."

Harry had tried not to take sides, but Ron had latched onto him and wouldn't let Harry out of his sight, not wanting to risk Hermione being able to catch him alone. Harry sighed and poised his quill over his mostly blank parchment.

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Hermione walking toward them tentatively, her arms loaded with library books. She looked between the two boys for a moment before setting her load down on the table, causing Ron to look up. He eyed the stack, then set his jaw and went back to his scribbling.

"I brought these from the library," Hermione said quietly. "I thought you might…"

"Don't need 'em, thanks," Ron said tersely, gathering up his supplies and pushing his chair back from the table.

"Ron, you can't just…" she began, but he swept passed her without another glance. She watched him go and then slumped into the chair next to Harry, fingering the worn cover of _Concealment Charms: Beyond Invisibility_ that lay on top of the pile.

"Can _I_ use them?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Oh, of course," she said dejectedly, pushing the pile toward him.

He grabbed the top one eagerly and began thumbing through it. "Thanks, Hermione, you're a life saver."

Finding what he needed, Harry began to jot down notes in his notebook when he heard a series of small sniffs beside him. Closing his eyes and resigning himself to the inevitable, he stopped writing and chanced a quick glance at her.

"Hermione, _please_ don't start crying," he begged. "I hate seeing you cry."

"What?" she started, wiping her hand across her cheek. "I'm not crying."

He turned back to his parchment but had only written a few lines before she spoke again.

"It's just that," she began quietly, "I've ruined us, haven't I?"

Harry frowned. He set down his quill and turned to her. "Us?"

"The three of us. It's ruined and it won't ever be the same, will it?" She turned to look at him fully and he saw the unshed tears in her eyes. "I should never have let him talk me into the two of us being together. If I hadn't, it would still be the three of us. Like always. Wouldn't it?"

She looked as though she wanted so badly for him to tell her that nothing had changed and everything would be alright, but he just couldn't. He shook his head and gave her a sad smile. "I think it hasn't been the three of us for a while now."

He watched as the tears slipped out of her eyes and her face crumpled. She wept silently and hid behind her hands, tears splashing down onto her lap.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered. "I never meant to…"

"Shh," he soothed, reaching out to rub her arm while glancing over his shoulder uncomfortably. "He'll come around; you just have to give him some time. You know how he is."

She nodded, wiping the wetness from her face.

"Anyway, you haven't lost _me_," he said.

She smiled through watery eyes. "I know." She reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

"Good."

Hermione took a deep breath and sat lost in thought while Harry went back to work. After a few minutes of silence she stood and said, "I'm going upstairs."

"Okay," Harry said absently, flipping through a book to check something.

She hovered over his shoulder, reading what he had written. "Don't forget to include the part about wand movements," she murmured.

"Yep," he grunted, scribbling.

"And those books need to go back to the library before it closes."

"Got it."

"Do you want me to just stay and…"

"Hermione!"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, squeezing his shoulder once more before hurrying up the stairs.

Harry chuckled and shook his head.

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When Harry was finished with his essay, he gathered up the stack of books and set off for the library; it was growing late and he had just enough time to return them before curfew. He slipped through the deserted corridors until he reached the tapestry of Lucy the Languid, which concealed a passageway down to the fourth floor. Stepping behind it, he stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the faint torchlight when he heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the passage. They were light and quick, allaying his fears that it might be Filch or some other professor patrolling for wayward students.

"_Lumos_," he whispered, and his wand emitted a faint light. His shoes echoed off the stone floor, causing the other footsteps to stop, but he pressed on, anxious to get by them and on his way.

The dim light showed the outline of a girl up ahead. He quickened his pace, glancing at her as he passed, but then stopped abruptly and held his wand up for a better look.

"Ginny? Is that you?"

She looked up at him, startled, but her shoulders relaxed when she recognized his face.

"You scared me," she said, letting out a breath.

"Sorry, I was just… why are you all wet?"

Droplets of water shone on her robe and her hair hung damp around her face.

"Oh," she said, as though just realizing the state she was in. She pushed the hair off her face and her eyes darted down the passageway. "I was just out for a walk."

Harry's brow creased. "What do you mean? _Outside?_"

She nodded and he saw that she was shivering.

"What the…" He set his books down and shrugged off his robe, pulling it around her shoulders. "It's the middle of _winter_, Gin."

She nodded again, not quite managing a smile. "I know, I just… fancied a walk. You know… fresh air… clear the head…"

He looked at her uncertainly. "Listen, go up and sit by the fire. I'll be right back. I just have to drop these books off, and then I'll come sit with you."

She clutched his hand suddenly, startling him. She was cold as ice. "Let me come with you," she said.

"Are you okay?" he asked, but she was already tugging at his hand.

"Come on," she said. "You don't want to get stuck out here after curfew."

He bent down to scoop up the books and followed after her. They had almost reached the tapestry at the far end when it was pushed aside by the Head Boy, who stopped abruptly upon seeing them. Harry rolled his eyes and noticed that Ginny quickly let go of his hand as Draco stepped inside and let the tapestry fall closed.

"Isn't this cozy," Draco said dryly.

"We're just going to the library. What are you doing in here anyway, Malfoy? I believe the dungeons are that way," Harry said, nodding his head toward the hallway beyond them.

"Right you are, Potter. Must be I'm going somewhere _else_."

Harry shook his head, wondering how the simple act of returning library books had become such a strange affair. He continued past Draco and held the tapestry open for Ginny, who didn't glance back as she hurried through it.

Draco stood silently in the passageway until he heard their footsteps die away. Then, shaking the dampness out of his hair, he went out the way he had come and proceeded toward the dungeons.

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"What were you doing outside?" Harry asked once they were seated by the fire.

"I… I'm not really sure," Ginny said, still huddled in his robe. "It was so strange, Harry. I just felt like I needed to get away, like there was this longing in me for something that I could touch if I just reached far enough."

Her hair was finally dry, but her cheeks still shone pink. She was breathing in quick bursts, and it made Harry feel uneasy.

"Something was calling me," she went on. "I'm not sure if it was a good idea to follow it, but I couldn't not go."

Her hand clutched his forearm as she spoke and her face was alive with confusion, wonder, and excitement all rolled together. Harry felt his pulse quicken in spite of himself. She was very striking in the firelight, the way her hair glistened as she moved her head, the way her lips moved so urgently. He mentally shook himself.

"What do you mean something was calling you?" he pressed. "Gin, I'm not sure that's such a good thing. I mean, the last time you were wandering around outside at night... well, some pretty bad things happened."

"No, it wasn't like that. It wasn't against my will, it was something I wanted… like it wanted _me_. Oh, I'm not making any sense; I just know what I felt."

She didn't tell him that not only had she gone to the cliffs, but had also picked her way down the rocky staircase to the water's edge. The wind off the lake had played with her hair and a misty rain had begun to fall, blanketing her in droplets. She'd looked out across the blackness to the opposite shore and thought she had seen a light, faint and weak, and her heart leapt out to it. She thought that if she could have, she would have walked on water to get to it. But now it seemed like just a mirage, playing in the back of her mind.

"Well, if you feel it again, I think you should tell someone before you just go wandering off out of the castle," Harry said with concern. "Tell _me_."

She brought her eyes to his and turned up the corner of her mouth. "Always watching out for me, aren't you." She squeezed his arm, sending a warmness through him. "I'm not eleven anymore, Harry, and I'm not incapable of taking care of myself. But I suppose you can worry over me if you like."

He snorted. "Nice of you to give me permission."

She sniggered and shoved his arm away. "Goodnight," she said, standing and dropping his robe from around her shoulders onto his lap.

As Harry watched her go, he felt a tug in his chest. "Ginny?" he called.

She turned around. "Yes?"

But he had no response, so after a moment he merely said, "Goodnight."

He stared back into the fire, trying to go over their conversation again in his mind, but was distracted by the lingering scent of her on his robes.

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"Do you think I could use this spell to conceal myself from Hermione?" Ron whispered as he sat next to Harry in Charms class. "Then maybe she'd stop giving me that look all the time. You know the one, that 'Oh Ron, why don't you just grow up so we can be friends again' look."

"Oh, definitely," Harry said, closing his books as the bell sounded. "Hey, while you're at it, maybe you could conceal yourself from me, too. Then I wouldn't have to listen to you prattle on about her anymore," he said irritably. "Just go talk to her, for Merlin's sake!"

They stood and made their way out of the classroom with Hermione trailing behind them. But as they emerged into the corridor, Ellie, who had been waiting for them, sprang forward and touched Harry's arm, causing him to turn around.

"Hi!" he said in surprise. It was unlike her to be waiting for him in the corridors, let alone touch him in public.

She glanced nervously at Hermione and Ron, who were looking at Harry with curious expressions. "Hi. Could I borrow you for just a minute? I… I need to talk to you about getting some ingredients for our Potions project."

"Oh… sure," Harry said, confused. He was certain they had already covered everything for the potion that was next on their list. Turning to Ron and Hermione, he shrugged. "I guess I'll see you later."

Ellie smiled at them, realizing that this must seem unusual, her just showing up out of nowhere. "Thanks," she said feebly. They nodded and parted ways. Hermione, uncomfortable at suddenly being left alone with Ron, headed toward the library, and Ron turned the other way as Ellie began to tug on Harry's arm. She led them around the corner, pushing against the flow of students, stopping periodically to glance into the classrooms until she found an empty one. Pulling him in, she shut the door firmly and pointed her wand at the handle muttering, "_Colloportus_."

"You had to lock us in an empty classroom to talk about Potions ingredients?" Harry asked.

"No." She dropped her bag and wand on the floor and strode over to him, grabbing his robes and pushing him against the wall. Her hands were shaking. "Kiss me."

Harry was taken aback. In all the times they'd been together, Ellie had never been so aggressive. Something must have happened to put her in such a state.

"What…" he began. But she cut him off, crushing her mouth against his in passionate desperation. Her fingers snaked through his hair, holding him tighter. Never had he been kissed like this, with such raw desire and urgency. It felt good. He wanted to get closer. He kissed her back, letting his tongue wander over her lips. Her body pressed into him as his hands made their way to her back, clutching at the fabric of her robes. Somewhere in his clouded mind, a voice asked if he wasn't getting a little too lost in this feeling. She's not your girlfriend, it said. She doesn't love you. _I didn't ask her to_, he fought back. _That's not what this is about. _

He pushed away from the wall, spinning her so that her back was against it, not breaking their kiss. She sighed into his mouth and trailed her fingers down his neck, slipping her hands inside of his robes to feel his firm chest. He leaned into her, pressing her against the wall, his hands cupping her face, his lips kissing her over and over. She responded to him with such fervor that he wondered what he had done to deserve it.

His hands drifted down, brushing across the rise of her breasts and moving along the curve of her sides to her hips. He pulled her to him, the contact causing a low moan to escape from his throat. His forehead leaned against hers and he stopped moving, except for his chest which was rising and falling rapidly. Ellie pulled away and stared into his eyes. Taking his hands in hers, she moved them inside the opening in her robes, guiding his arms around her waist and under the hem of her shirt, so that his fingers touched the warm skin of her back. Her lips brushed his cheek and made their way down his neck, making his heart beat even faster. The softness of her skin welcomed his hands as they moved up, hesitating at the thin strap of material that crossed her back. He fingered the clasp tentatively.

"Is this okay?" he murmured. He couldn't believe he was about to do this.

She seemed to pause for a moment before bringing her lips up to Harry's ear and brushing it lightly. "Yes," she whispered.

His hands began to tremble. He had heard from other blokes that these things were notoriously difficult to undo, causing all sorts of embarrassing scenes where the girl had to eventually do it for them. Apparently it took some practice, and he had certainly not… had… practice. He tried to concentrate as he fumbled with the clasp. Ellie bit her lip in an effort not to laugh as she took his face in her hands and smiled at his frustration.

"It's okay," she whispered, "keep trying."

She kissed him again, coaxing him on. Her patience calmed his nerves and after a few more tries, he freed the hooks and pressed his hands into the smooth skin of her back, pulling her close again and kissing her deeply. A sigh of pleasure rewarded his efforts, sending a tingling through him; he felt emboldened. Slipping his hand around her sides, he lifted the lacy material and brushed his palms against the warm flesh of her breasts. She gasped against him, lifting her lips from his and tilting her head back. Harry couldn't believe how soft she was; he thought there was nothing like it in the world. He dipped his head to her neck and brushed it with his lips. If there was anything more beautiful than this girl at this moment, his mind could not recall what it might be.

He ached for her, but he wasn't willing to take things any further without some indication of what she wanted. They had certainly never talked about how far their physical relationship might go. Harry whispered her name, and they looked into each other's eyes, breathing heavily.

Ellie held his gaze as he questioned her with his eyes, but just as quickly as their passion had overtaken them, it was gone. A shadow came over Ellie's face, and her eyes shone bright against the darkness. Harry felt a moment of panic at the realization that the gasp she had made when he touched her might not have been from pleasure. He quickly removed his hands from her shirt.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh," she smiled through her tears, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "you're so sweet. No, you didn't hurt me. I just… I'm so…"

The pain in her voice drove any thoughts of what they might or might not have been about to do from his mind, and he willed his body's reaction to subside. "What is it? Tell me."

She shook her head.

"Ellie…" He drew back from her slightly. "I'm here. This is what we do, right? I'm your punching bag. Come on. Hit me."

She looked at him uncertainly, as if trying to gauge whether she could trust him, if he really meant it. When he did not waver, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks and breathed in deeply, backing away from him and readjusting her clothing as she moved toward the door. Harry's heart sank; he didn't want her to leave. But she merely stooped to rummage through her bag, digging until she found an envelope. Clutching it in both hands, she returned to where he stood waiting, shielding it protectively for a moment before holding it out to him.

It was a letter. On the front Ellie had written Reed's name. Harry turned it over and saw that it was unopened. A short note scrawled across the back read, _"Please don't, El. I have to sort through this on my own."_

Harry looked up at Ellie. The tears from before had been replaced by a cold look of anger and hurt.

"Yesterday was our one year anniversary," she said, barely above a whisper. "I thought that if I could just remind him of what we had, what we could still have, that he would see that this… that our being apart is just crazy. But he didn't even read it. I got it back today with that note."

Harry couldn't even pretend to know what she was going through; his only experiences with affairs of the heart were stunted at best. But he only had to know her to see that Reed was mad for ever giving her up. She was beautiful, smart, patient, knew exactly what she wanted. Who wouldn't love her?

Yes, asked the voice in the back of his mind, who wouldn't?

Ellie's voice broke into his thoughts. "I'm so angry. I hate him for doing this to me." Her fists were balled up and her chest began to rise and fall more quickly. Her eyes fell on Harry, and she suddenly advanced on him, raising her fists and pounding him in the chest with one quick blow. Harry's eyes widened as her cheeks flushed, and he saw the fire building in her.

"Men," she spat. "Why are you all so stupid?" She pounded him again, causing him to take a step back. "What is it that you want, huh? Freedom? To be able to go and shag any girl you want? To live life without love and not have to give a thought to how anyone else feels? What is it?!"

Harry's heart was racing. This wasn't like when Hermione got angry with him over some seemingly insignificant thing. This was gut-wrenching honesty. He knew that her anger wasn't directed at him, but she was hitting a little too close to home. Hadn't he done that? Hadn't he chosen a friendship with Ginny over the complications and risks of a relationship with her? Wasn't the attraction of being with Ellie precisely that he was free to come and go with no trappings of a commitment?

Ellie raised her arms again, but Harry caught her wrists and held them tight. "Ellie," he said, trying to remain calm, "I didn't mean for you to hit me literally."

At his words, she seemed to snap out of her haze and looked into his eyes, startled. She sucked in her breath. "Oh, Harry… I'm sorry." She opened her hands, still in his grasp, and placed them gently on his chest. "What am I doing? I'm so sorry."

He released her hands and touched her cheek, holding her gaze. "Are you okay?" She looked frightened. He thought she had scared herself as much as him.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes."

He smiled, trying to lighten the moment. "Do you want me to find him and hex him for you?"

But she didn't smile. "No," she whispered, "I want him back." Her face creased in sadness. "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't be dragging you into this." She turned away from him, bending to gather her things.

"Ellie," he said softly, but she shook her head and opened the door, leaving him alone.

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Hermione was in a foul mood. The day had started normally enough with her daily attempt at making conversation with Ron over breakfast, to no avail as usual. She was all for giving Ron time and space, but his avoidance of her was bordering on the ridiculous. Then she had missed a question on her Arithmancy exam, which she could only attribute to the great stress she had been under lately, though it was still no excuse for a poor mark, made worse by the fact that Ellie Bridgeton had scored perfectly – the only girl who had ever offered Hermione any real academic competition.

And if that wasn't enough, Draco Malfoy had had the audacity to interrupt her Ancient Runes study session that afternoon to complain that the Slytherin Quidditch team had been bumped off of the practice field by Gryffindor, and what was she going to do about it? After a fierce argument about roles and responsibilities, she had been forced to march out to the Quidditch pitch only to have Harry shrug his shoulders at her and continue on with his practice. And now,_ now_, she had just spent the past half-hour finding a replacement for Ginny Weasley who had apparently failed to show up for her evening rounds.

Hermione marched up the girls' staircase to the sixth years' room and rapped firmly on the door.

"Ginny?" she called, but there was no answer. "Maura? Abby?_ Anyone?_" She opened the door into the darkened room and saw a lone figure standing next to the window.

"Ginny!" she said, striding across the room. "There you are. Listen, I'm sure you're very busy just like we all are, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't skive off rounds. Do you know I had to ask_ Pansy Parkinson_ to cover your shift? And if Malfoy thinks I owe him a favor now because of it, I'll just scream; he is driving me absolutely batty and I… Ginny, are you even listening?"

Ginny, who had been staring out the window during the tirade, now turned to the Head Girl with a furrowed brow. "Hermione, what are you on about?"

Hermione stopped and stared at her, incredulous. "Rounds!" she yelled, startling Ginny back to the present.

"There's no need to shout," she grimaced, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot. Were you able to find someone to cover?"

"Yes, I've just told you…"

"Good," Ginny interrupted, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "Sorry, I'll make it up next time."

Hermione sat down next to her, frowning"Ginny, what's going on with you? I've noticed you coming back late at night; Harry says you missed a Quidditch practice; Colin seems to be always looking for you. Are you okay?"

"Sounds like everyone has got too much time on their hands if they're monitoring my every move," she said tersely, then relented at the look of consternation on Hermione's face. "Sorry. I'm just feeling a bit stressed these days, you know, first year of NEWTs and all. I guess it's becoming a bit much."

"Well, if it's schoolwork you're worried about, I can help you with that. But is that really all it is?"

Ginny shrugged her off. "Hermione, you've got plenty on your plate without worrying over me."

Hermione put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "That's what friends do. Besides, Ron has risen worrying over you to art form. It was bound to rub off on me eventually. Really, Ginny, if there's anything you need… anything you want to talk about…"

_Well, yes actually_, thought Ginny_. It turns out that the spirit of Tom Riddle? You know, the one we all thought Harry killed? Well, he's back. Why, you ask? Because a boy actually had the nerve to fall in love with me. Except now, that boy and I are hardly speaking because I'm too terrified of what Tom might do to me, or what Colin might do for that matter if he ever found out. And for some inexplicable reason I'm being drawn outside into the darkness by this feeling in me that is so strong, I think I'll die if I don't give in to it. And the only one who can make any sense of this, the only one that I feel even remotely safe around, is Harry. Harry, who I'm still desperately in love with despite the fact that nothing will ever come of it. Harry, who worries over me and protects me and gives me his friendship, but who wouldn't know how to love me if his life depended on it. Thanks for asking._

Instead, she merely nodded. "Thanks, Hermione. So," she ventured, changing the subject, "what about you? Ron still not speaking to you?"

Hermione sighed. "No. I think he's sworn me off for good this time. Not that I'd blame him, really."

"I'd think you'd be glad for the breathing room, actually," Ginny said. "It's his own fault he was such an arse in the first place."

"Don't say that," Hermione chided. "It wasn't his fault entirely. I just can't be with him the way he wants me to; we're too different. But I do still want to be friends. I miss him, believe it or not."

Ginny eyed her thoughtfully. "Well," she mused, "if you really do want Ron speaking to you again, you just have to make him angry enough that he can't help it."

"What?" Hermione asked in horror. "Ginny, fighting is what got us into this mess in the first place. I hardly think…"

"Hermione, nothing drives Ron into action faster than his anger. And what makes Ron angry more than anything else?"

Hermione frowned. "Finding you in a broom cupboard with some boy?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No… _you!_"

"Well, yes," Hermione said exasperatedly. "That's the problem, isn't it?"

"When was the first time he started to admit he had feelings for you?" Ginny asked, waiting only a moment before answering, "At the Yule Ball, when you had that horrible fight over Viktor, remember?"

"Yes, but…"

"When was the first time he kissed you?" Ginny went on. "After your fight over the Apparition Test."

"So, you think if I pick a fight with him, he'll start talking to me again? Oh, Ginny, I don't know. That sounds like asking for trouble."

"Well, he is a Weasley," she smirked. "Sometimes, you have to take drastic measures."

Hermione exhaled tiredly. "I'll think about it. Well," she said, standing, "I'd better go. Get some rest, okay? We can't have the next Head Girl falling down on the job."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah, I wish. Thanks for stopping by. It was good to talk; we don't do enough of that these days."

Hermione returned the smile and left, closing the door softly behind her. The moon had risen fully now and the room glowed with a ghostly light. Ginny rose and resumed her position at the window.

_"You did well not to tell your little friend about me," _the voice of Tom Riddle said, invading her thoughts for the second time that night.

_"I didn't do it for you," _Ginny shot back at him._ "I did it because there is nothing to tell. You have no hold over me, Tom. We both know that."_

There was a pause, and Ginny thought perhaps he had left, but she was mistaken.

_"If you say so," _he replied mockingly, and she had to make a conscious effort to remain detached from his attempts at drawing her into an argument. _"Now, where were we?"_

_"We were nowhere," _she said.

_"Really? And I was just beginning to think you were enjoying our little excursions."_

She looked out the window to the grounds below and shivered, longing and common sense fighting against one another as if they were two separate entities being housed in one body. With a grunt, she tore her gaze away and focused on getting ready for bed, putting away her clothes, and tidying her desk until the longing faded into the darkness completely. With her mind temporarily at rest, she sank into her bed and was overtaken by sleep.

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys are great. _


	19. Balance Shift

Chapter 19 - Balance Shift

Harry opened the door to his room to find Ron kneeling on the floor, tossing things haphazardly out of his trunk.

"Alright there, Ron?" he asked, dropping his bag next to his bed and shrugging off his robe.

"Have you seen my Spellright Quill?" Ron asked, sifting through his belongings. "I know I had it in Transfiguration and now I can't find it anywhere."

"No," Harry said.

"This is the third time this week I've lost something!" he growled in exasperation, sitting back on his feet. "First my Charms notebook, then my new_ Quidditch Monthly_, and now this! It's really starting to piss me off."

"Oh, that reminds me," Harry said, rummaging through his bag. He pulled out a tattered pad of parchment and handed it to Ron. "Here's your notebook. Hermione said she found it in the library."

"The_ library_? What the hell was it doing in there?"

"How should I know?" Harry shrugged. "You could try _asking _her," he added brazenly.

"Lay off it, Harry." Ron snapped the lid of his trunk shut. "Maybe I left it downstairs," he mumbled as he slouched out of the room.

Harry flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes. End of term exams had everyone on edge these days, and the holiday break couldn't come soon enough. He let his mind drift toward Christmas, the Burrow, Ginny, Ellie…

His thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open as Seamus and Dean sauntered in, chuckling and shaking their heads.

"Leave it to Weasley, the poor sod," Seamus said. "He can't even break up with the girl but he lands himself right back where he started."

"What happened?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"Ron caught Hermione downstairs with his missing _Quidditch Monthly_ and one of his quills in her bag," Dean explained, his eyes full of mirth. "Started in on her about it and accused her of nicking his things."

Harry's jaw dropped open. "You're joking. Did she hex him?" he asked.

"That's the thing," Dean continued. "It seems he was dead on. She said she'd only done it because he's been ignoring her and being a right git."

"_What?_" Harry exclaimed.

"Actually, what she said was," Seamus cut in, adopting a Hermione-like tone, "'If you had any sense, Ron, you'd have dropped this silent treatment days ago. Now I've had to become a thief just so you'll talk to me!' Blimey, there's no rest for the weary with those two." Seamus shook his head as Dean continued to chuckle to himself.

Yes, Harry thought, it would definitely be good to get away for a holiday.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ron, wait!" Hermione yelled as she ran out of the portrait hole after him. She had succeeded in making him angry, but now she was afraid she'd taken it too far. Nevertheless, she was _not_ going to let him walk away from their friendship again.

Ron stopped abruptly, whirling to face her. "Why, Hermione? Why in the world… I'm so bloody angry at you right now I can hardly see straight. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Ron, just because I can't be your girlfriend doesn't mean I want you out of my life! I've been going spare trying to get you to say more than one syllable to me for the past week. You're my best friend, and I will_ not _give that up." Her chest was heaving with adrenaline, but her countenance changed from determined to desperate. "Ginny said if I made you angry then you'd be forced to talk to me."

Ron stared at her, not believing his ears. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

She raised her chin in defiance. "It worked, didn't it?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Hermione, this is fighting. Not talking. Maybe if you'd put as much effort into our relationship as you have into this, we wouldn't be not speaking in the first place."

Hermione deflated a bit and lowered her eyes. "Okay, I deserved that," she admitted flatly. She looked up again and bit her tongue, waiting for him to continue as he stood there clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"I don't know, Hermione," he said finally. "I don't know if I can go back to just being friends."

"Don't think of it as going back," she said softly. "Think of it as going forward… and maybe we can do it better this time." She took a step toward him and grasped his arm. "Please, Ron."

He shrugged her hand away, but met her eyes for a long moment.

"I'll think about it," he said warily.

"Alright," she agreed.

They stood awkwardly for a heartbeat until Hermione broke the silence.

"So, do you… want to do some revision together later tonight?" she asked.

Ron pressed his lips together into a tight smile. "Don't push it," he warned.

"No, sorry," she relented.

"I have to go. See you later," he said, brushing against her arm as he headed down the corridor.

"See you," she said as she turned to watch him go.

"Hey, Hermione," a voice called behind her. Turning, she saw Colin striding down the corridor toward her and was struck by the tenseness in his shoulders and worry on his face; he had always been amiable and enthusiastic to a fault but, she thought sadly, his easy-going manner seemed to have deteriorated over the past few months. As much as she loved them, the Weasleys did seem to have a knack for turning one's world upside down.

"Hi, Colin," she said tiredly. "What's up?"

"I was just looking for Ginny," he sighed. "We were supposed to meet in the library to revise for our Potions exam. Have you seen her?"

She shook her head sympathetically. "No, sorry."

"Right, thanks anyway." He started to go, then changed his mind and turned back. "Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You know Ginny pretty well. Am I… missing something?"

Her first instinct was to ask what he meant, but then realized that it was a pointless question; she knew exactly what he meant and why he was asking. She sighed. "I don't know, Colin. She hasn't seemed like herself lately, has she?"

"No. I don't know if it's something I did… or didn't do… or if she's just not interested anymore."

"Oh, I don't think it's you," Hermione tried to reassure him. "Sometimes I think Ginny just doesn't know how to reach out to people for help. It's that Weasley pride, you know." Colin smiled ruefully and nodded. "It's almost like when she…" Hermione continued, but then stopped herself.

"When she what?" Colin asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing." She wasn't sure how much Colin knew about Ginny's involvement with the Chamber of Secrets and didn't think it was her place to enlighten him.

"Well, if you see her…"

"I'll tell her you're looking for her," Hermione nodded.

"Thanks," he said and continued on his way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny hurried through the library doors and rushed to the Potions section, causing several heads to turn and earning a disapproving tut from Madam Pince, the librarian. She searched the stacks for any sign of Colin, and when she didn't find him, slumped into a chair at the table where they had arranged to meet. She knew she was horribly late for their revision session and couldn't blame him for not waiting. Taking a deep breath, she propped her elbows on the table and lowered her head into her hands.

"Full moon out tonight. Lovely evening for a stroll along the cliffs, don't you think?"

Ginny's head shot up and straight into the smug gaze of Draco Malfoy, who had seated himself across the table from her. She snapped her head to the left and right, wondering if he had been addressing someone else. Unfortunately, there were no likely candidates nearby, and she was forced to conclude that he had meant these words for her alone.

"I know where you've been going at night," he said in a low voice, leaning across the table, "and if you don't want anyone else to find out, you should really be more careful."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, but before she could formulate a reply, a dark-haired girl approached the table and folded her arms.

"Draco," Pansy said coolly, "I thought we were ready to leave, but when I turned around, you'd disappeared." She cast an appraising glance at Ginny. "What are you doing with _her _anyway?"

"Just passing along a message," he said, giving Ginny a penetrating look as he rose and took Pansy's hand, who narrowed her eyes at the other girl once more before allowing Draco to lead her away.

Several minutes later, Ginny pushed the library door open, still shaken from her encounter with Malfoy. She thought she had been deflecting attention from her whereabouts with her "homework" and "time alone" excuses, and her friends had seemed to buy it. But if she was on the Slytherins' radar, especially one as malicious as Malfoy, she was treading in dangerous waters. Still, why threaten her, if indeed it was a threat? Even if he knew where she was going, he couldn't possibly know why, could he?

"Ginny!"

At the sound of her name, she looked around, startled.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Colin said with concern, approaching her from the other end of the corridor. "Did you forget we were going to revise for Potions?"

"No, I…" she stammered. "Well, yes, I did. I remembered too late and when I got here, you'd already gone. Sorry."

"Are you alright? You don't look well."

"I'm fine, Colin," she said tersely. "You don't need to hover over me, you know. I can take care of myself."

Colin frowned in agitation. "Well excuse me for being concerned about my_ girlfriend_. Though at this point, I'm beginning to wonder if we really are dating at all, since we hardly ever spend time together and don't exactly communicate when we do." Ginny frowned and avoided his eyes, but she was clearly unsettled about something. "Would you at least_ talk_ to me and tell me what's wrong?"

She met his eyes with a stern look. "Nothing's wrong."

"I see. So I should just accept that and drop it, is that it?"

She folded her arms across her chest and the color rose in her cheeks, but she said nothing more.

"Listen Ginny, you know how I feel about you," Colin said in a lowered voice. "I care about you so much, but I can't hold up my end of this relationship much longer if you're not willing to meet me halfway. I thought you at least valued our friendship more than that."

Ginny's shoulders relaxed and she gave him a plaintive look. "I do, Colin, our friendship means a lot to me. You have to know that."

"What I know is that friends don't lie to each other or push them away. If you're going through something that you're not ready to share with me yet, that's fine. I'm not asking you to spill your innermost secrets to me. But don't lie and say nothing's wrong."

Ginny felt a lump rise in her throat and tried to swallow it down. She was hurting Colin terribly, she knew, but wouldn't it hurt him more if she told him that they couldn't be together without being able to tell him why? Did she even want that? She wasn't sure what she wanted anymore; everything had become so mixed-up and distorted.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you the answers you're looking for." Colin snorted in frustration and she felt tears pricking at her eyes. "Do you still want to be with me?"

"Yes," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "That's all I've ever wanted. The question is, do_ you_ still want to be with_ me_?"

She took a deep breath, and a sadness weighed on her heart. "Colin, maybe we need a little break from each other." She saw the hurt and anger flicker in his eyes. "I'm not saying I want things to end between us, but maybe some time apart will do us good."

He stared at her hard for a moment. "Yeah, maybe it will," he said in a rough voice as he turned away and strode out of sight, leaving her to sag against the wall in exhaustion as the sound of cruel laughter echoed triumphantly through her mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry took a deep breath as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. He felt good; exams were nearly over, Ron and Hermione were on speaking terms again, a glittering snowfall had blanketed the grounds in white, and in two days time he would be boarding the Hogwarts Express for the Christmas holidays. But in spite of all this, there was something that had been weighing on his mind; he felt that the time had come to make a decision. A decision about Ellie. He had been thinking about it for a few days now and had come to the same conclusion each time. What he and Ellie had together was growing steadily into something more than a convenient arrangement. They had shared so much together that he found himself wanting more – more than quick snogs in darkened closets, more than the occasional glance across the room or notes passed in the corridors. Maybe it was foolish to think that she could ever really understand him. Maybe it wasn't fair to expose her to what his life really was. But no matter what arguments he presented to himself, the fact remained that he wanted to try; to see if they could get past being just a distraction for each other and really be together.

Sometimes he toyed with the idea of what it might be like to have that with Ginny. He treasured her friendship, and he knew that Ginny would always hold a special place in his heart. They had experienced things together that few other people ever could, and he shared a connection with her that he didn't with anyone else.

But being with Ginny brought so many other things with it, complicated things. There was her family to consider, their role in the war, and their vulnerability to Voldemort because of their support of him. Yet even if those obstacles had not been there, the fact was that Ginny had moved on. She had found someone who loved her, who was good to her. And despite his feeling that Colin wasn't quite good enough for Ginny, he couldn't begrudge her that if it's what she wanted. What was it that Ginny had said? That maybe he just wanted to find someone too, someone to be happy with. He already knew that Ellie liked him and wanted to be with him, and he couldn't deny that he felt happy when he was with her. She made him feel normal and alive at the same time; she gave him a release from the burdens of his life. And so, after some debate, he had made up his mind to tell her how he felt. His eyes roamed over the Ravenclaw table, and he soon found Ellie's dark head bent over several sheets of parchment as she did some last-minute revising and nibbled on a piece of toast. He smiled warmly at the sight of her.

"You're looking very pleased this morning for someone who's about to endure a two-hour Potions exam," Hermione said as he sat down across from her. Harry blinked and brought himself back to the present. "With all the revision you've put me through this week, I could pass this exam in my sleep," he said, pouring himself a glass of juice. "I'll just go in there and keep my head down, Snape will find some excuse to take ten points from me, and that will be the end of it. Besides, Ellie will be my partner for the practical part, so I can't muck it up too badly."

"You two make a good team," Hermione said shrewdly.

Harry smiled. "I suppose we do."

The whooshing sound of wings announced the arrival of the morning mail. A brown barn owl swooped over Harry's head, dropping a note onto his plate before soaring out the window again. He unfolded the parchment to see Ellie's now-familiar handwriting.

_I need to see you tonight, I have something to tell you. Can we meet in the Astronomy Tower after dinner? Let me know, I hope you can._

_E._

He glanced at the Ravenclaw table, but Ellie's head was still buried in her notes. No matter, he could tell her in Potions. He read the note again and a contented smile played over his features.

"Who's that from?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Just Dumbledore, wishing me a Happy Christmas," he said, hastily refolding the note and putting it in his robe pocket.

She furrowed her brow at him, but decided against interrogating him further. "Ready?" she asked, standing and gathering her notes.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he responded and gulped down the last of his juice.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours later, with the last of his exams behind him, Harry anxiously finished his dinner and headed for the Astronomy Tower. Ellie had been very quiet during their Potions exam, only nodding when he told her he would meet her later, but he chalked it up to nerves. She was always nervous before an exam, just like Hermione, though he thought they had done well enough to earn more than a passing mark.

As he climbed the winding staircase to the top of the tower, his feet slowed. Was he doing the right thing? No, he couldn't second-guess himself again. He wanted this. After all, she had wanted to meet with him, too; she had something to tell_ him_. Maybe she felt the same way. For once in his life, Harry thought perhaps he was getting something right.

He stepped through the door at the top of the stairs and saw that she was already there, standing out on the observation parapet. He crossed the classroom and opened the double glass doors, breathing in the cold, still air as he stepped outside.

"Hi," he said softly, his breath rising into the night.

She turned, and he was struck by the beauty of her face in the moonlight. "Hi," she smiled, and he felt a sudden shyness come over him. He cast about for something to say.

"Glad exams are finally over," he began. "Potions was alright. How was Arithmancy?"

"Alright," she nodded.

He moved closer to her and noticed that she had her arms wrapped around herself. "Are you cold?" he asked. "We could go inside."

"No," she said, turning to look up at the sky. "I was just looking at the stars. The sky is so clear tonight."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "it's really beautiful." He reached out his hand to touch her hair, causing her to turn toward him again. "I'm really glad you asked me up here tonight. There's something I want to talk to you about."

Ellie's eyebrows raised faintly in surprise. "There is?"

Harry nodded and reached for her hand, enveloping it in his own. "I've been thinking about you… about us… a lot. I really like you, Ellie."

Her eyes widened and he could see her breath quicken, but she kept silent so he plunged on.

"I think we should try being together, you know, as a couple. I… I want to be with you. For real, no more sneaking around."

"Harry…" she whispered, her brow knitting together.

"No, it's just… I see you in class or in the corridors, and I want to be near you, I want everyone to know that we're together. This thing that we've been doing…" He paused and gestured between them. "It's been great, but I want more. I think we could be good together, and I'm hoping you feel that way, too. I know this wasn't the plan, but I really, really…" He looked into her eyes and brought his face closer to hers until his lips felt her warm breath, and he kissed her, softly and tenderly. A small noise escaped her throat, but before he could deepen the kiss, she pulled away.

"It's too much, I can't do this," she said in a strangled voice.

"El," Harry breathed, "I'm starting to think I could fall in…"

"Harry don't," she said urgently as a look of utter panic crossed her face. "Please. Don't say it. You weren't supposed to… I told you, no strings."

Harry's stomach lurched, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "Can you honestly tell me you don't feel _anything _for me?" he asked, the hurt evident in his voice.

A sadness came over her eyes, and it tore at him. "No," she whispered. She pushed away from him and turned to stand at the edge of the wall, looking out into the starry sky. "Reed owled me. He wants me to come visit him over Christmas hols. He wants to see if we can try again, to see if we can make it work. He says he's miserable without me." She turned to face him, her cheeks stained with tears. "I have to try, Harry. I love him."

Harry's shock immediately gave way to something else. "You _don't_ love him. If you did, you wouldn't be with me," he said harshly.

Ellie's face twisted in despair. "Just because I gave up on him doesn't mean I stopped loving him. I needed you take that pain away from me and make me feel wanted again. And you did… you did. But I have to try. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Harry bristled at her words and took a step back. "I don't know."

Her chest hitched in a sob. She moved toward him, but he folded his arms protectively across his chest. "If he let you go once, what makes you think he won't do it again?"

She shook her head but didn't answer his question. "I don't want to leave you like this."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice rising. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? For us to use each other until something better came along?"

"No, Harry…"

"Just go." His voice wavered, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold it together.

She picked up her bag and moved toward the door, pausing when she reached it to whisper, "I'm sorry." And with one last look over her shoulder, she was gone.

Harry listened until her footsteps died away. Only then did he allow his body to slump against the wall and down to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny rummaged through her schoolbag once more. Not finding what she needed, she threw it aside and got on her hands and knees to look under her bed.

"What'd you lose?" Maura asked.

"My Astronomy book. I have to revise for that exam tomorrow." She straightened up and brushed the hair out of her face. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"You can borrow my book," Maura offered.

"No, all my notes are in mine. Maybe I left it in the Astronomy Tower; I was up there talking to Professor Sinistra earlier today. I'll go look."

Ginny walked briskly through the corridors, grumbling to herself. She couldn't wait to get these exams over with and then be off to the Burrow for a well-deserved holiday. The thought of being in her own room again, surrounded by her family and her mother's cooking, and being with Harry almost made it seem like things would be alright again.

As she approached the tower staircase, the sound of footsteps caused her to pause. She saw a figure emerge from the doorway and rush off in the other direction toward Ravenclaw Tower. The girl seemed to be upset, and the only feature Ginny could identify was her long, dark hair. She shrugged and climbed the winding stairs to the top, entered the classroom, and began searching under the desks for her book.

"Aha!" she exclaimed softly, finally finding it on a shelf near Professor Sinistra's desk. She turned to go but was halted by a feeling of confusion tinged with sadness washing over her. She looked around, but the room was empty, and she had almost convinced herself that it was just her mind playing tricks on her when a movement out on the parapet caught her eye. Slowly, she moved toward the window and saw a lone figure sitting in the shadows, hunched against the cold. Her instincts told her to go and leave whoever it was to themselves, but there was something familiar about the emotions she felt radiating toward her. It almost felt like it was…

"Harry?"

Ginny hurried through the door and crouched in front of him in alarm. "Harry? What's wrong, what's happened?"

He looked up at her, and her insides wrenched at the sadness and anger on his face. He stood quickly, moving away from her toward the edge of the wall, and looked out over the grounds. She waited, not wanting to push him. Finally, he spoke in a bewildered voice, looking to the sky.

"Gin, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Hermione told me a few years ago that you had given up on me."

She paused. "Yes, I suppose I did."

He turned to face her. "Did you…" He stopped and looked at her for a moment, her trusting eyes waiting for him to continue. Jumbled thoughts bounced around inside his head. How could he have misread things so badly? Ellie still loved Reed even though she said she had given up on him. He wanted to believe it was a lie, and yet, it felt oddly familiar. He looked at Ginny again and felt that the world had shifted so that he was now starting to see things from her point of view. But no, he couldn't drag her feelings for him into this.

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's not fair of me to ask you that."

Ginny frowned. "Ask me what?" He shook his head again and turned back to the wall, but she stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm. "Harry, look at me," she prodded. "Ask me what?"

Harry exhaled deeply and searched her eyes once more before asking the question. "Did you love me?"

Ginny was caught completely off guard. Harry had never spoken to her so directly before nor allowed himself to be so vulnerable in front of her. Whatever had happened, it had hurt him deeply, and she felt a need to be very careful with her next words.

"I thought I did." His eyes still held hers, looking for answers. "Yes," she admitted finally. "I did."

"And when you gave up on me, did you_ stop_ loving me?"

"Harry…" she said gently, unsure of what he wanted her to say.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head in embarrassment. "You don't have to answer that."

Ginny could see that he was searching for something; he needed honesty from her, and she desperately wanted to give it to him, regardless of the fact that it would mean laying her heart on the line for him. Again. She tightened her grip on his arm. "No, I didn't stop. But I moved on. I had to."

Harry turned away and gripped the edge of the wall where Ellie had stood, looking out over the grounds. "No," he repeated to himself, bending low so that his forehead touched the cool stone. Ginny could see his fingers turning white as he squeezed them tighter. "How could I have been so stupid?"

Ginny felt her heart break for him. She wanted to wrap him in her arms and cast a spell to banish whatever was hurting him. She kept silent, waiting for him to let her in. After a few moments, Harry felt her hand on his, gently lifting his fingers from the wall. He straightened and looked at their intertwined hands, his face downcast.

"Harry, what happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't think I want to talk about it yet."

Impulsively, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him to her. "I would take it away if I could," she whispered.

He buried his face in her hair and held her tighter, grateful for the chance to hold her again and to feel the security and warmth that radiated from her. "I know you would."

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The train ride home from Hogwarts was a somber affair. No one felt much like talking; Harry and Ron spent the ride playing mindless card games while Ginny wandered between compartments in an effort to keep the uncomfortable silences with Colin to a minimum.

Only Hermione was her usual self. She tried to engage the boys in conversation about their exams, but they finally shooed her away. Claiming that she had Head Girl duties to attend to anyway (which wasn't strictly true, but made her feel less ignored), she made quick rounds of the train before heading to the Prefects' compartment. It was mercifully empty, and she settled into a seat by the window, watching the passing landscape and allowing herself a rare moment of peace.

Her eyelids had just begun to droop when the compartment door slid open, and Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stepped inside. Hermione eyed them disinterestedly.

"If you're looking for a place to snog, go somewhere else," she said, turning her gaze back to the window.

Pansy snorted. "Granger, only you would do something so common as to snog in a train car," she said derisively.

Draco chuckled at Hermione's look of indignation, but admired her coolness in dealing with Pansy. He turned to his girlfriend. "Pans, go back and sit with the girls, I'll see you later." She opened her mouth to protest, but one raise of his eyebrow shut it again, so with a regal air and a possessive peck on his cheek, she left.

"Who's got their significant other trained now?" Hermione asked, not bothering to hide her smirk.

"I was just looking for a little peace and quiet, but she will insist on following me everywhere," Draco sighed, taking a seat across from her.

"I don't think there's enough room in here for both of us, Malfoy. I'll leave you alone," Hermione said, rising.

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Hermione considered for a moment. "Alright, I will," she said and sat back down.

They rode in silence as Hermione did her best to ignore his presence, but only succeeded in becoming more aware of him by the minute. What was he playing at? It was so unlike him to voluntarily remain in her presence for longer than absolutely necessary, but she reflected that for all their protests to the contrary, they really had formed a semblance of a working relationship over the past term.

"So, what does a Malfoy do for Christmas holiday?" she ventured. "It's a whirlwind of fancy parties and lavishly expensive gifts I suppose?"

"It's not necessary to make conversation just because we're both here, Granger," he replied dismissively.

They lapsed into silence once more, until a thought sprang to Hermione's mind. "How's your mother, Malfoy?"

He looked up sharply, but instead of a scathing retort, he quickly schooled his expression. "I don't know how that could possibly be any of your business."

His voice had become as silky smooth as his father's, Hermione realized with a start. The little boy who had taunted them, belittled them, and often made life hell for them, was gone. But in his place was a man who had learned the art of being calculating and subtle – a much more lethal combination, to be sure. Hermione knew it should have put her on edge, but surprisingly, it gave her confidence. She knew how to play his game.

"There was a break-in at Malfoy Manor several weeks ago, wasn't there? The_ Prophet_ said she was hurt. Was anything taken?"

"My mother is fine. And as for anything that may or may not have been taken from my home, that's hardly something I'm going to discuss with _you._"

Hermione cocked her head and eyed him curiously. "You're becoming more like your father every day."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replied without emotion.

"It wasn't meant as one," she stated.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "You're right," he said, standing. "It _is_ getting crowded in here."

"Malfoy," Hermione called as he walked toward the door. He paused with his back to her. "Happy Christmas."

A shadow came over Draco's eyes, and his mouth tightened into a slight frown. He turned his head slightly, but didn't reply as he slid the door shut behind him.

Hermione lifted a finger to her mouth and chewed on it in thought as she watched the fields give way to houses. They were nearing London.

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Next week… Christmas at the Burrow with some quality time for Harry & Ginny._


	20. A Burrow Christmas

_A/N: What a nice coincidence that my Christmas chapter actually falls during Christmas season! Enjoy._

Chapter 20 - A Burrow Christmas

It was Christmas Eve. The Burrow was decked with boughs of holly, and fairy lights sparkled on the fresh evergreen in the living room. Hot chocolate and biscuits were passed around as the Weasley household settled in for an evening of yuletide cheer. Bill and Fleur were in France visiting Fleur's family for the holiday, and Percy would not be arriving until dinner on Christmas day, but the house was still full of anticipation as the younger Weasleys and Harry waited for the last person who would join them that night.

After a round of charades – in which Harry failed to identify Ginny's exaggerated singing mime as Celestina Warbeck, and Ron's imitation of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack rendered the twins speechless with laughter on the floor – a quiet settled over the house. The fire crackled in the hearth, and a few heads had begun to nod when they heard the back door open and a rugged young redhead in dragon-hide boots appeared in the living room doorway.

"Charlie!" Ginny flew across the room and into the arms of her brother, who caught her in midair and squeezed her tight.

"How's my Gin?" he smiled, setting her down.

"I'm so glad you're home!" she squealed. At first, he laughed heartily at her enthusiasm, but as he looked into her eyes, his smiled faded and was replaced by a look of confusion. She became suddenly self-conscious, but before she could say another word, she was pushed aside by the queue that had formed behind them.

"Charlie! Great to see you, mate. Did you bring any of those items that we talked about?"

"Oh, George, leave him alone," Molly chided. "Come in, darling, and I'll make you a hot cup of tea. It's so good to have you home," she said, hugging her son.

"Of course, if you want anything stronger than tea, we can fix you up later," Fred whispered, jabbing Charlie with his elbow.

"I heard that, Fred!" his mother called from the kitchen.

"You've been holding out on me!" Ron complained.

Charlie laughed and clapped his youngest brother on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Ron. I'm sure there's plenty to go round. Harry! Nice to see you," he said as he shook Harry's hand.

"Now, now boys, let him come in and have a seat," Arthur smiled, beckoning Charlie into the room.

"Hey, dad."

"Hello, son," Arthur said fondly. "Have a good trip?"

"Almost got blown off course Apparating across the Channel, but other than that it was alright."

Ginny settled on the couch next to him as they all huddled around Charlie, asking questions about dragons and his life in Romania. He told them about a new Chinese Fireball hatchling they had just obtained from a Himalayan breeder, and how the Reservation where he worked had been embroiled in debates with the Romanian Ministry about regulations for the use of dragon's blood. The clock had struck well past midnight when they finally said their goodnights.

Ginny had just snuggled into her bed when a soft knock came at the door.

"Gin, it's Charlie. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

She reached for her wand and turned up the lights in the room as he entered and gently closed the door. Crossing to the edge of her bed, he stared down at her with brotherly concern.

"So, are you going to tell me what's up?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

His weathered face broke into a soft smile. "Don't do that, Gin. Or did you forget that you and I give new meaning to the phrase 'I know how you feel'?"

She sighed and sat up, adjusting the pillow behind her back. "Alright, what do you think you felt from me?"

He sat on her bed and regarded her thoughtfully. "I couldn't make it out exactly. Light and dark, happiness and grief. And... love? Are you in love with someone, Gin? Someone who's hurting you?"

She smiled wryly. "You mean besides the usual?"

"_Harry_ did this to you?" he asked sharply.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's not Harry's fault." She stared down at the worn coverlet, her fingers picking at a stray thread.

He frowned. "Are you alright?"

"Charlie, it's Christmas. I just want to put all this out of my head and enjoy my family. Please… just give me a few days, and then we can talk if you like."

He stared at her a moment more before nodding. "Alright." He reached out and picked up the dragon globe that he had given her for her birthday from her desk, turning it round and round in his rough hands until it swirled with snow.

"Bedtime for little girls," he said, recalling the words her father used to put her to bed every night when she was young.

"I'm not…"

"… a little girl anymore," he finished for her, setting the globe back on the desk. "I know." He tweaked her chin and rose from the bed, clicking the door shut softly behind him.

Dousing the lights once more, Ginny lay back down and watched the moonlight dance off the glittering snow in the globe as the dragon's wings flapped against it with the small knight standing fearlessly below.

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Charlie climbed the stairs to his old room, surprised momentarily to see someone moving about in the room across from his.

"Harry," he smiled. "I forgot you had Bill's old room."

"Oh," said Harry, startled as he looked up from his trunk. "Yeah, hope that's alright."

Charlie shrugged. "Of course. I suppose I'm just used to seeing Bill in there, that's all. Goodnight," he said, turning toward his own door.

"Night," Harry called, closing his trunk and heading for the bathroom.

"Say, Harry," Charlie asked, suddenly coming out of his room again. Harry paused on the landing and raised his eyebrows in reply. "Have you been spending a lot of time with Ginny up at school?"

Harry felt immediately on guard, though quickly reminded himself that he had no reason to be nervous. He supposed it was because conversations between Weasley brothers and himself regarding his attentions toward Ginny never seemed to go very well.

He shrugged. "Um, not more than usual. Why?"

"No reason." Charlie frowned and Harry thought he seemed agitated. "Has she been hanging around with any blokes? You know, exclusively?"

"Uh… she's been dating Colin Creevey for a few months…" Harry offered, not sure how he felt about being interrogated regarding Ginny's dating habits.

Charlie wrinkled his nose. "Colin Creevey? What, you mean that little blighter who used to follow you around with the camera?"

Harry chuckled. "That's him. But Colin's alright, Charlie. You don't need to worry about him with Ginny."

Charlie nodded. "Alright. Thanks, Harry."

"No problem." Harry continued down the stairs, pausing when he reached the bathroom door. He glanced across the landing toward Ginny's room, wondering if she were already asleep. He had watched her with Charlie downstairs, her face so alive and her cheeks flushed with happiness. He had missed seeing her like that. A smile crept across his face. It was good to be home.

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By the following evening, the presents had been unwrapped to choruses of "oohs" and "ahs", the Christmas turkey and pudding had been heartily consumed, and pick-up games of Quidditch in the paddock had sufficiently exhausted everyone so that a lull settled over the Burrow.

Ron had retreated to his room to stave off his mother's attempts to cut his hair, ("Really, Ron, it's over your eyes! Just let me give it a quick trim.") but Harry privately thought he was still being a bit mulish over Hermione. She had only given them a rushed "Bye, Happy Christmas!" when they'd reached London, and it seemed that Ron couldn't decide whether to be grateful or disappointed that she hadn't made a scene.

Harry cast his eyes about for Ginny, but not seeing her, he went up to his own room and stood by the window, watching the stars wink in and out of the night sky. He opened the window a crack, breathing in the crisp air, and was seized by a longing to soar out into the night and fly above the treetops now that it was too dark for anyone to see him from the village below.

He pulled on an extra sweater, wrapped his Gryffindor scarf around his neck, and pulled his Firebolt out of his trunk.

Climbing onto the window ledge, he pushed the sash wide and squeezed through the opening, falling forward until the broom caught his weight and he pulled up on the handle, gliding effortlessly into the night. He skimmed the tops of the trees around the paddock and swooped out over the small lake, watching himself reflected in the moonlight as is bounced off the water, until he came to the tall oak tree. Ginny's Tree, as he had come to think of it. He landed at its base and leaned his broom against the trunk.

The cold air stung his nostrils as he breathed in deeply, looking to the sky. The stars were bright, as bright as the night Ellie had left him. The centaurs of the Forbidden Forest had told him once that the future was to be found in the heavens. But if it was, he couldn't see it. His future lay like a murky lake ahead of him with one clear, unavoidable goal in the center and a vast sea of nothingness beyond.

He turned back to the tree and ran his hand over its rough bark, remembering the last time he had stood there with Ginny in his arms, her eyes looking so earnestly into his, then brimming with angry tears as he had pushed her away. He blew out a breath and leaned back against the tree.

"Venus is bright tonight," a soft voice spoke from somewhere nearby.

Harry started and looked up to find Ginny sitting on a low branch above his head, half hidden in the darkness. He turned back to the sky and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I thought that was Mars," he said.

"No, it's Venus," she said, matter-of-factly.

The branches shook as she shifted her weight and dropped down beside him, dusting off her hands and looking to the sky. "But Mars is coming toward her, see?" She pointed to a smaller spot of light to the left of the green planet. "He's threatening to overtake her."

"Yes, he's always doing that, isn't he?" Harry said, a bitterness in his voice. But it was quickly replaced with a smile. "Firenze been teaching you how to read the stars?" he asked, thinking of his old friend who had left his herd in the Forbidden Forest to become a Divination teacher at Hogwarts.

Ginny gave a brief smile. "You don't have to be a centaur to know that sometimes things don't work out like you want them to, Harry."

Harry's smile faded, and he turned to watch Ginny's profile as she studied the sky. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

She shrugged one shoulder, but said nothing.

"It's cold," he said, trying to fill the silence. "I think my toes are numb."

"Sometimes it feels good to be numb," Ginny replied, looking around at the darkened landscape. "It's tiring to have to _feel _all the time. Sometimes numb isn't such a bad thing."

Harry silently agreed as they stood together, letting the quiet fall over them.

"It was Ellie Bridgeton, wasn't it?" Ginny asked softly, turning to face him.

He hesitated. "What was?"

"That night in the Astronomy Tower. Why you were so upset."

He dropped his eyes and scuffed the ground with his toe. "How did you know?" he asked quietly.

"I saw her coming down the stairs just before I went up. I didn't realize who she was at the time, but later I remembered that she had come to see you in the hospital wing, when you were knocked off your broom. Ron said she was your Potions partner."

Harry looked up, surprised. "She came to see me?"

Ginny nodded. "Didn't she tell you?" Harry shook his head. "She was very upset, beside herself really. At the time I couldn't think why…"

Harry paused. "We were…" he stammered.

"Together?" she offered with a hint of bitterness. Harry nodded. Ginny fell silent, and he suddenly felt the need to explain.

"But we're not… anymore…" he began.

"And you didn't tell anyone about the two of you?" she asked. Harry shook his head. "Why?"

He exhaled. "It doesn't matter now. It was a mistake."

"But you still felt something for her, didn't you," she said. It was more of a statement than a question. He bristled and looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry, is it okay that we're talking about this? I know you didn't want to before, but…"

"No, it's alright," he said, turning back to her with a determined look. He had asked so much of her in the past. If she wanted answers now, she deserved for him to be honest. "What did you want to know?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Nothing, but… you can talk to me. If you want to. When I saw you that night, you were hurting so badly I just… I wanted to…"

Her voice trailed off, but he understood what she was trying to do and was grateful for it. He glanced at her briefly. "Thanks. Yeah," he exhaled, "I was a pretty spectacular mess that night."

"Tell me about her," Ginny said, sitting on the cold ground and wrapping her arms around her knees. As Harry looked down at the top of her head, he smiled inwardly at the twists and turns their friendship had taken, and he became acutely aware of how much he had missed by pushing Ginny away for so long.

"Are you sure you want to hear about this?" he asked, dropping down next to her.

"Yes, please," she said, turning a plaintive eye on him. "I need something to take my mind off my own troubles. So, tell me about your secret rendezvous or whatever it is you've been doing all term." She rested her cheek on her knees and fixed an expectant look on him.

"Well," he breathed, "you know, she was my Potions partner and we were spending a lot of time together, and then we just, sort of, got together. We agreed not to tell anyone because of… well… different reasons. But it was fun, you know? Sneaking off and being together, just talking and laughing and…"

He paused and Ginny raised an eyebrow. "And…" she prompted.

Harry cleared his throat and blushed. "Yes. And."

She laughed, and it warmed him from head to toe, hearing her laugh like that. How he had missed her, he thought, missed the easy way they used to talk with each other when they'd been here, at the Burrow, in the summer.

"And then, well…" His voice became quiet, and he hunched his shoulders. "I wanted more. I thought maybe we could make it work, but she… didn't. But when I was with her… I don't know, Gin. She just made me feel… _normal_. You know?"

Ginny didn't say anything, but continued to look at him, her face showing neither pity nor surprise. She regarded him thoughtfully. "Sometimes it's nice just to have someone to hold onto, isn't it? To take you away from reality for awhile."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But that's not love, is it."

"Maybe love is about more than kisses and warm bodies," she speculated. "Maybe it's about _knowing_ someone. Knowing them so deeply that they share a part of your soul, even when the sharing is painful. Even when you hate it," she said, an edge creeping into her voice.

Her change in tone brought a quizzical look to his face. "Are we still talking about me?" he asked.

Ginny shook herself and drew a deep breath. "Sorry, just thinking out loud."

He studied her face; she seemed so deep in thought, and he wondered what was going on inside her head, what troubles of her own she was running away from. His hand twitched with a sudden longing to reach out to her, to hold her hand comfortingly or put his arm around her shoulders. He flexed his fingers and rubbed his palms on his thighs nervously, the warming motion reminding him of how cold his hands had become.

"We should get inside before we freeze," Harry said, breaking Ginny out of her thoughts.

"Right," she said, breathing deeply and sitting up straight, rubbing her own palms against her jeans. "Everyone will wonder where we've gone."

"Thanks, Gin," Harry said earnestly. "For listening. You're probably the last person who wanted to hear it, but I guess I needed to talk about it more than I thought." He glanced at her sideways, and her lips turned up in a brief smile.

"You're welcome," she said sincerely. She leaned over, intending to kiss his cheek, but he turned toward her, startled by her sudden movement, and her lips caught the edge of his before she pulled away, embarrassed.

Harry's lips parted in surprise, and he stared at her dumbly, the heat rising in his cheeks. He could see that Ginny was having much the same reaction, but her gaze didn't flinch from his. Then, without another thought, he leaned forward swiftly and captured her lips with his before she had a chance to react. She responded immediately by opening her mouth and returning the kiss, but he had hardly brought his hand up to cup her face when she jerked away, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Harry, don't," she whispered.

"Ginny, I…" he stammered.

She stared at him wildly. "Why did you do that?" she asked, her breath quickening.

"I don't know," he said softly, his eyes not leaving hers. "It just felt right."

She was visibly shaken, and he felt her tremble under his touch. "Harry, I'm not just a warm body either. You can't just come to me when it _feels_ right," she said, pulling away from him and quickly standing up.

"No, I know you're not," he said, scrambling to his feet as well.

"I'm _with_ someone," she said in a distressed whisper. "You _know_ that I'm…"

She turned and Harry watched her walk away, his mind whirring in all directions when suddenly, he saw her fall to her knees, clutching at her head.

"Ginny!" He raced to her side, crouching down next to her. "What is it?"

"Nothing, Harry. Go away!"

"What? I'm not going to leave you here like this!"

She pushed his hand away from her. "No!" she wailed, her voice full of anguish. "Why are you doing this?"

"Oh, Gin, I'm sorry. I'm such an incredible arse, I never meant to…"

"Harry, you have to help me," she said, reaching out and grasping his shirt, her eyes bright with fear. "I can't do it by myself anymore, he's going to drive me insane. You have to help me."

Harry's heart beat faster. "Help you?"

"I thought if I was away from Colin it would be better. But it's not. He's never going to leave me alone."

"What? Who, Gin?"

"Tom, Harry." She looked up into his face, and he saw sheer terror in her eyes. "It's Tom."

"_What?_ But how…"

"Harry, _please_," she cried desperately. "Help me!"

He gathered her swiftly in his arms and picked her up, holding her tight as she buried her face in his neck. "I've got you, Gin," he whispered. "Hang on." Space folded in around them and then reopened as he Apparated them to the back door of the Burrow. Stumbling inside, he carried her into the kitchen, startling Charlie who was fixing himself a late night snack.

"What happened?" Charlie asked, dropping his knife with a clatter onto the table and rushing to his sister.

"We were talking and she just… collapsed," Harry panted, looking around wildly. "Where are your mum and dad?" he asked.

"Already in bed," Charlie said distractedly. He brushed Ginny's hair out of her face. "Gin? What's wrong?" he asked, but she only burrowed deeper into Harry's chest and shook her head. "Get her upstairs," Charlie said with authority. Harry nodded and disappeared, Apparating them up the two flights to Ginny's room. He lay her down on her bed, but she would hardly let go of him and kept whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again.

"Shh, Gin, it's okay," he soothed, stroking her hair and trying to contain his own panic. Charlie rushed into the room carrying a glass of water and a small blue potion vial. Harry extricated himself from her and moved aside as Charlie sat down on the bed and lifted the potion to her lips.

"Drink this," he said, holding her head. She did without question and lay back on the pillows, visibly calmer than she had been a moment before.

"What was that?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Just a Calming Draught," Charlie said. "Mum always keeps some in her medicine cabinet. Can you tell me what happened?" he asked turning to Harry. "Did she say anything before she collapsed?"

"I… she said…" He looked at her, not knowing what to say. It was too ridiculous to think that she could be right, that Tom Riddle was… She looked back at him with a pained expression and bit her lip.

Charlie looked between them and set his jaw. "Can I talk to her alone, please?"

Harry tore his eyes away from her and nodded. "Sure." He rose shakily and backed away from the bed, fumbling for the door handle behind him.

"Harry… thanks," Charlie said as an afterthought. "For watching out for her."

He nodded again. "Sure. Of course," he said, sliding out of the room and closing the door.

Once they were alone, Charlie turned a stern gaze on his sister. "Right. Now you are going to tell me _what _is going on."

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Harry had intended to go up to his room, but instead he slumped against the wall opposite Ginny's door and just sat, waiting. He heard their hushed whispers on the other side and hoped that Charlie would be able to make some sense of what had just happened. He was Ginny's favorite brother, they shared that Legilicor bond; surely he would know what to do. He had to, because Harry didn't think he could handle whatever was happening to her on his own.

A barrage of images began to flood his mind: Ginny's small body lying lifeless on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle using her to bait him, a twelve-year-old boy slaying a basilisk and destroying a diary to save her life. He had already fought that battle. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't.

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"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone about this," Charlie said harshly once Ginny had finished.

"Charlie, please don't tell mum and dad," she begged. "They'll only go spare with worry. You don't know what it was like the first time; once they found out what had happened in the Chamber, they hovered over me day and night. And that was _after _they thought Tom had been destroyed. Imagine how they'd be if they knew he was still with me? I'd never be allowed out of my room again!"

Charlie shook his head vehemently. "You don't know what you're playing at. Voldemort…"

"It's not Voldemort," she whispered fervently. "It's just the ghost of a memory. It's not real."

"Not real?" Charlie boggled. "Not… how can you say that? Look at what he's doing to you! Look what he did before! No matter what you keep telling yourself, this is _real_. I can feel him in you, Ginny, and he's tearing you apart."

"No," she shook her head. "He won't. I won't let him. And Harry knows now," she said defiantly. "He'll help me. I know he will."

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The minutes ticked by slowly as Harry waited, trying to fit the pieces of this new puzzle together in his mind.

"Hey, where've you been? I was looking for you," a tired voice said, startling him. He looked up to find Ron in his pajamas with a towel slung over his shoulders, heading for the loo.

"Out. With Ginny. We were out. Talking," Harry replied disjointedly.

"What are you doing out here then?" Ron asked.

"She…" Harry faltered. "She said…"

Ginny's door opened and Charlie came out, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "Harry," he said. "She wants to see you. Maybe you can talk some sense into her," he muttered.

Ron looked between them, confused. "About what?" he asked.

"Come on, Ron," Charlie said, starting up the stairs and motioning for his brother to follow. "I'll fill you in. Harry?" He turned to face the other boy, his voice strained. "You didn't know about this, did you? You didn't know and not say anything…"

"No, Charlie. I swear," Harry said quietly. Charlie nodded, pushing a protesting Ron up the stairs ahead of him until they were out of sight. Harry stared unseeingly at Ginny's door for a few moments before drawing a deep breath and reaching his hand out to the doorknob.

Ginny was sitting up in bed just as Charlie had left her; she sat very still with a pensive frown on her face. Harry crossed to her and sat on the edge of her bed, the weight of it all sinking to the pit of his stomach. How much more of this would he have to go through? How much more would _she_ have to go through on account of him?

"Are you sure it's him?" he asked in a low voice after an interminable silence. She nodded. He reached out and took her hand, stroking it gently. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Ginny looked down at his hand, not meeting his eyes. "I didn't think there was anything to tell," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "Last time... he took me over, Harry. He made me do things I didn't want to do, and I had no control. I wanted to show him that I was stronger now, that I could resist him on my own. I thought if I could do that, he wouldn't be able to affect me anymore." She shook her head.

"When did it start?"

"Um..." Her eyes flicked up to his and back down again. "I'm not sure exactly, but it was around the time Colin and I got together. That day in Hogsmeade, when you... saw us..." Harry felt a fresh embarrassment creep into his cheeks. "...I felt jealousy and anger. I thought it was you that I was feeling, but now I think maybe it was him."

Harry snorted in disbelief but then thought for a moment, remembering how he had hidden under his cloak, how he had felt so drawn to her that day. "Maybe it was both of us," he said, brimming with guilt. "Gin, if I had anything to do with this... with bringing him back..." His voice tightened. "I'm so sorry. I would never hurt you."

She looked up quickly and squeezed his hand. "No, it wasn't you, Harry," she said firmly. "Please believe that. It wasn't you."

"How can you be sure? He used you to get to me once, what if he..."

"Harry," she interrupted. "I know it wasn't you because you don't love me."

Harry fell silent, dumbfounded. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to utter, "What?"

"Harry, what is the power that Dumbledore said you have that Voldemort knows not?"

Harry shook his head in confusion. "I think... love, but..."

"Yes. Love," she said as though it were obvious, but she could see that he still didn't understand. She pulled her hand away from his. "When Colin told me that he loved me, I felt Tom stronger than ever. I was almost knocked over from the force of his hatred. Don't you see? Our ability to love is the only thing that can destroy Voldemort. And when Tom felt that in me, saw that someone loved me, it threatened the part of him that is still alive in me so much that he lashed out against it. It reawakened him. That's what I think anyway."

"Colin... he told you that?" Harry asked, and she nodded. "But there are plenty of people who love you," he protested. "Your family, your friends..."

She shook her head. "Not the way Colin loves me."

Harry swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to ask the next question. "Do you... love... him?"

Ginny drew her knees up, causing the blankets to tent around her legs, wrapping her arms around them. "Would it matter if I did?" she asked quietly.

"Well, it might, if Riddle knew…"

"No, I mean… would it matter to you?"

Harry paused. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "But I'm not going to let him take you from me again. I won't."

Ginny heard the determination in his voice and felt his strength pour into her as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She clung to him tightly as he stroked her hair, and the fear slowly seeped out of her as she rested in the knowledge that she wasn't alone. Not anymore.


	21. Secrets

_A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a safe and Happy Holiday._

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Chapter 21 - Secrets

An owl fluttered in through the Burrow's kitchen window on the last morning of holiday break as everyone was finishing breakfast and preparing for the ride to King's Cross Station. Ron wiped the toast crumbs from his hands and took the note from the bird's leg.

_Harry, Ron & Ginny,_

_Professor Dumbledore has asked Malfoy and me to come back to school early today. He says he has something important to brief us on before all the students return from holiday. I'm getting ready to Floo to Hogwarts now, so this is just a quick note to let you know I won't be on the train._

_Ron, could you please let all the other prefects know? Just make a couple of rounds during the trip and see that everything is under control (and don't make Ginny do all the work while you sit and eat Chocolate Frogs either). I don't know what this is all about, but I'll fill you in as soon as I can._

_Bye!_

_Hermione_

Ron frowned and passed the note to Harry, who scanned it quickly. "Wonder what that's all about?" he asked. Ron shrugged and put his dishes in the sink as Ginny came bumping down the stairs with her trunk, followed closely by Charlie.

"So, you're going to owl me every week," he was saying.

"Doubtful," Ginny replied calmly.

"And you're going to let Harry and Ron know if things get any worse," he continued.

"And you're going to stop harassing me," she volleyed back.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Charlie pulled his sister into a bear hug. "And you know I love you, right?"

"Yes," Ginny smiled, hugging him back.

"Don't be scared," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm not."

Charlie pulled back and gave her a soft smile. "Yes, you are, but that's good. I'd be worried if you weren't."

Mrs. Weasley bustled in from the living room. "Alright everyone, we're ready to Floo. Ginny, you first please. Your father is waiting for you at the Leaky Cauldron, and then he'll help you get a taxi to the train station."

While Ginny dragged her trunk to the fireplace, Charlie pulled Harry and Ron aside.

"Keep in touch with me; I want to know how she's doing," he said in low tones. "She may tell you she's fine, but you've got to keep a close watch on her. There's no telling what Riddle might try and make her do."

They nodded and promised to owl him with any news, good or bad.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

"Right," said Ron a few hours later once they were settled into an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. "Ginny, I think one of us should stay with you at night. And since we can't come to your room, you should sleep in ours."

Harry and Ginny blinked and stared at him, wide-eyed. "Ron, she can't sleep in our room," Harry said reasonably.

"The common room then. We can take turns," Ron said.

"That might work," Harry answered, considering the options.

Ginny snorted and raised her finger at them. "Listen, I don't know what Charlie said to you two, but I will _not_ allow you to hover over me every waking – or sleeping – second. I didn't even want _you_ to know in the first place," she hissed, pointing at Ron. "I wish Charlie'd never told you."

"Why not?" he asked angrily.

"Why do you think? You overgrown, overbearing, overprotective git!" she growled.

"Ginny," Harry said forcefully, "we're just trying to…"

"I know, Harry," Ginny said, bringing her voice under control. "But you can protect me without imprisoning me. Just be here for me when I need you, alright?"

Harry exchanged a dubious look with Ron and clenched his jaw.

"We should tell Hermione," Ron said. "She might have some ideas."

"I don't know…" Ginny frowned skeptically. "She's already got her hands full enough."

"Ginny, you said you wanted help," Harry challenged. "We might be able to protect you physically," he said, gesturing between Ron and himself, "but Hermione could actually find a way to get rid of him once and for all. You know she wouldn't stop until she found a spell or potion or _something_. Unless you want to take this to Dumbledore…"

"No!" she spoke, surprising herself at the forcefulness of her tone.

"But why?" Ron asked. "Dumbledore probably knows Riddle better than anyone; he could get rid of him in a snap," he said, snapping his fingers.

"Exactly," she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest and causing them to wrinkle their eyebrows at her. "Don't you think that if Dumbledore knew about this, he'd alert the whole Order to it?"

"Not necessarily," Harry frowned. "He might just handle it on his own."

"No, he wouldn't." Ginny shook her head. "At the very least he would tell McGonagall since she's my head of house. And probably Snape as well because of his connection to Voldemort. Dumbledore still trusts him."

"And if Snape knows…" Ron began.

"He'll go right to Voldemort with the information," Harry finished for him.

Ginny nodded. "Harry," she said, turning a pleading look on him. "You know what it's like to be a target for Voldemort. And I hate that, I hate that you have to live like that. But if he gets even a hint that Tom Riddle is alive inside of _me_…"

"He'll come after you," Harry said gravely.

"I don't even want to think about what would happen if they joined forces," Ginny said, her face paling.

"So," Ron said with a heavy sigh. "We don't tell Dumbledore."

Ginny shook her head and Harry, after thinking about it for a moment, agreed. Ginny breathed an inward sigh of relief. Not only because she had convinced them to keep the knowledge of Riddle's existence between themselves, but because they were right. Dumbledore was certainly her best chance of getting rid of Tom with minimal damage to herself, but she didn't want Tom to go away in a snap. She had lived with this burden for far too long, and become too invested in it, for it to be ripped from her so easily. She wanted to show Tom what she was made of; she wanted to make him suffer like he had made her suffer. She had already let Dumbledore down once when she'd opened the Chamber of Secrets, but this time, she would show him that she was just as capable of fighting the forces of evil as anyone.

"But what about Hermione?" Ron asked, interrupting her thoughts. "She could still help."

Ginny chewed her lip, thinking. "Hermione would be alright, but let me tell her. I'll tell her tomorrow. But _only_ her; I don't want to go putting everyone into a panic," she said sternly, looking back and forth between them. "Alright?"

The boys hesitated, then acquiesced with a nod.

"Thank you," she exhaled. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny started to shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Didn't Hermione tell you to do some rounds?" she asked Ron.

"Oh yeah," he said, exhaling. "I forgot."

"Let me do it," she said, jumping up. "I need some air."

Ron shrugged. "As long as you don't tell Hermione I made you do it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I won't," she said and slid the door closed, leaving Harry and Ron to stare after her.

"I don't like this," Ron said through clenched teeth. "I can't believe she's kept this a secret all this time."

"She's so stubborn," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Harry, she almost died in that chamber," Ron whispered, his voice unsteady. "And I didn't even know anything was wrong until it was almost too late. She was only eleven…"

Harry looked at his friend and suddenly realized how deeply the news of Tom Riddle's return was affecting him. It was sometimes easy to forget that even though Ron hadn't been in the actual Chamber with Harry, that night had been one of the most harrowing of his life as well. "Ron, that wasn't your fault; none of us knew. But now we do, and I'm not going to let anything happen to her. I promise."

"I know," he nodded, his face creased with worry. "Anyway, Hermione will figure out something, right? She always does."

Harry nodded and they fell into silence as the train rushed on.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Late that night, Ginny pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as she tiptoed through the darkened Gryffindor common room. She had rushed up to her room when they'd arrived at school, pleading a headache and not wanting to run into Hermione just yet. Now, she emerged from behind a tapestry and into the Entrance Hall, her heart beating loudly as she hurried down the steps to the front lawn and around the corner of the castle. Continuing along the dark shadows near the wall, she came to a stairwell that descended into the ground, leading to the underground boat dock where first-year students traditionally arrived from their journey across the lake. A small stone portico with a gated door guarded its entrance.

She pointed her wand at the latch and spoke the spell that Tom had taught her to release the magically reinforced lock. "_Aperiomora Colligar,_" she whispered, the latch glowing bright for a moment as the spell was released. Looking over her shoulder, she descended the steps quickly and quietly, her wand lighting the way as she curved downward through the stone walls until she reached the rocky ground at the bottom.

A small fleet of boats was tethered together in a row, bobbing gently on the surface of the water. Untying one, she climbed aboard, rocking it slightly as she settled herself. Her lips tightened and she turned to look at the stairs once more, her only means of escape now. But instead of retreating, she pointed her wand at the bow. "Forward," she spoke, and soon she was gliding over the water, through the ivy curtain at the cave entrance, and across the lake.

Once she was gone, the torches on the wall of the underground harbor extinguished themselves. All but one, which burned brighter than the other flames; its light had a pale hue, almost white.

"_Finite Purlonius,_" a voice spoke into the emptiness, and the flame torch dissolved into a whitish-blonde head and tall, thin body. Draco frowned. He had told her to be more careful and had thought that surely by this time, Ginny Weasley would know better than to continue playing with fire. Apparently, he was wrong.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Ginny's eyes darted left and right, as if she expected to see another boat pursuing her, but the lake was empty. After several minutes of riding silently through the chilly night, the boat ran aground on the eastern shore, just beyond the wrought-iron fence glimmering coldly in the moonlight that served as the official boundary of the Hogwarts grounds. Tom had lured her out of the castle before: first to the cliffs; then down the rocky steps to the shore; then into the boat launch and for short trips out on the lake, but never as far as the opposite shore.

Not knowing where she was heading, but feeling led from somewhere within herself, she struck off through the trees and up an embankment. Her bones were beginning to ache from the cold when she suddenly came upon a large, black hole in the face of the hill. Edging toward it, she came to the mouth of a cave and peered inside. She hesitated; it was blacker than night.

_"It won't bite, you know."_ Tom's voice slithered mockingly into her consciousness, goading her. Her heart beat wildly, but she refused to succumb to fear. Raising her chin, she walked into the blackness and stopped a few yards inside the doorway.

"What is this place?" she questioned aloud, her voice shaky in spite of her efforts to keep it calm. "Why have you brought me here?"

_"Lumos,"_ he murmured to her.

"Lumos," she replied, the tip of her wand flaring to life. She was standing in a medium-sized earthen room. About the same size as the common room, she thought, but there was nothing to be seen but bare walls and a hard packed dirt floor scattered with leaves. She frowned, perplexed.

"But there's nothing here," she said, inexplicably disappointed. For surely, "nothing" was better than whatever horrors she'd imagined that Tom had in store for her.

A warm breeze stirred the back of her hair and sent goosebumps across her flesh. And then the breeze spoke.

"I wouldn't say _nothing_," it said, close to her ear, causing her to shudder with the realization that it was not a breeze. It was a breath.

Ginny turned around quickly, bringing her wand up in front of her to illuminate the face of Tom Riddle himself. She recoiled inwardly, facing the familiar image of a dark-haired, sixteen-year-old boy whose eyes bore into her and whose triumphant sneer brought back the horrors of the first time she had seen him, five years before.

"You," she whispered her heart in her throat. "How did you…"

"That's hardly the way to greet an old friend, Ginny," Tom spoke, cocking his head to the side in mock consternation. "After all, it has been so long since we've seen each other."

Her eyes lit up in surprise as she recalled the last time she'd seen his physical form, through half-lidded eyes as she had lain on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, near death.

"But," she began breathlessly, "how are you standing here?" Her thoughts jumped from one conclusion to another inside her head. In the Chamber, he had used her strength to take form, but she was not weakened by their encounter this time. It must be something else; he was using something else to give him power. Her eyes darted around in the darkness. "Is it something to do with this cave? Have you cast some kind of spell around it?"

Tom tutted. "So many questions. And here I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Her eyes snapped back to his and she raised her eyebrows. "And _why_ would you think that?"

"Well," he said smoothly, "you and I made quite a pair once upon a time, didn't we? I remember you once told me that no one knew you like I did. No one _understood_ you like I did. Do you remember? I'm still the only one," he said, lowering his voice. "Unless, of course, you've found someone else in whom you can confide your deepest, darkest secrets? Someone who will indulge your wildest dreams?"

Ginny hesitated.

"No?" he asked. "I thought not. Come, let us be friends once again. Together we can accomplish great things, you know."

"No," she said in a quavering voice. "I'm stronger now; I won't let you take me in with your lies anymore. You may be standing in front of me, but you couldn't use my strength to do it, so you had to find some other way. Admit it, Tom, you don't control me and you can't make me do anything I don't want to do."

"And what is it that you want, Ginevra?" he asked, regarding her with amusement. "You say you are in control, and yet here you are. Don't tell me that it was your _intention _to sneak out of Dumbledore's castle and sail halfway across the Black Lake to an empty cave," he smirked. "If it was, I underestimated you. But we both know that it wasn't."

Her confidence faltered, and he seized on her uncertainty. "If you are so strong, then why is it that one kiss can drive you to your knees? Why is it that Harry Potter had to _carry_ you to that insipid little house of yours?" he hissed, his rage rising. "Do you really think that he can save you again? Are you so blind that you think I will let him slip through my fingers a second time?"

A cold fury swept through Ginny, giving her strength, and when she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. "Do you really think I'm going to give you the chance to get anywhere near him?"

"Oh, my sweet Ginevra," Tom said, his tone threatening. "If only you understood the truth of the one who stands before you, then you would see that it is only by my grace that you do not cower on your knees before me."

"Or maybe you're just a figment of my imagination," she replied.

He stretched out his hand and ran a cold finger across her cheek, sending a wave of nausea through her. "I assure you, I am not."

"Let me go," she said, trembling.

He lingered for a moment more before backing away. "For now," he said, and Ginny turned and strode quickly out of the cave, stumbling blindly down the hill to the boat, leaving the image of Tom to evaporate into mist.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Hermione came downstairs the next morning to find Harry and Ron already dressed and sitting in the common room, much to her surprise. She had missed riding with them on the train the previous day and was eager to see them – even Ron, whom she had thought a lot of over Christmas break and how they might go about becoming friends again. She hoped he had been thinking about it, too.

"Hello!" she said, smiling at them, though they seemed a bit preoccupied as they stared expectantly at the girls' staircase.

Harry looked up and smiled. "Hi," he said as she sat on the window seat next to him.

"How was your Christmas?" she asked.

He glanced at her and then turned back to the staircase. "It was…" he began.

"Eventful," Ron finished for him.

"Really?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "Why? And who are you waiting for? You've got your eyes trained on those stairs like the Chudley Canons are about to whiz down them at any second."

Both boys turned an incredulous look on her.

"What?" she asked. "I can make a Quidditch reference as well as the next person," she said defensively. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what was all that business with Dumbledore yesterday?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione shifted in her seat and leaned in close to him. "There was an attempted breach of the school grounds over the holiday," she said in low tones.

"What kind of breach?" Harry wanted to know.

"Dumbledore said that several of the wards at different points along the border of the grounds were set off two days ago. But none of them were actually compromised. He thinks that someone may have been testing them, bouncing spells off of them to see if there were any weak points."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked in alarm, but Hermione shook her head.

"He's not sure, but he's not ruling it out. He doesn't want to create a panic, but we're to alert the prefects about what has happened so that they can be on their guard for any suspicious activity. There will be no more Hogsmeade visits for the immediate future. And of course, the teachers have all been alerted as well."

Harry checked the girls' stairs briefly, and then turned back to Hermione. "How did Malfoy seem when you left the office? Did he seem like he knew anything about it?"

"Well, it was strange actually," she said. "When we were finished, Dumbledore dismissed me, but he asked Malfoy to stay. I got sort of a funny feeling about it."

Harry was about to ask why when suddenly, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Ron elbowed him in the side. "There she is," he said, jumping up and striding toward her.

"What's going on?" Hermione inquired.

"Have you talked to Ginny yet since we got back?" Harry asked, refocusing his attention on the task at hand.

"No, why?"

"Make sure you talk to her today," he said, and stood up.

"Why?" she asked, standing quickly beside him.

"Just make sure you do." Harry strode toward Ron and Ginny, leaving Hermione with a perplexed frown on her face as she hurried after them down to breakfast.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

"Did she tell you?" Ron asked bluntly, seating himself across from Hermione in the library later that evening.

Glancing up from her reading, she replied, "Hello to you, too."

"Hermione…" he began.

"Yes, she told me," Hermione whispered. "But she didn't _want_ to," she added with a touch of bitterness.

"What do you think?"

"I think if she had come to me months ago when this first started rather than now, it would be a lot easier to solve." Hermione scribbled some notes on her parchment and continued reading intently while Ron stared at her with impatience.

"What do you _really_ think?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet," she said, turning the page.

"Did Ginny tell her?" Harry asked, arriving at their table and dropping into the seat beside Ron, who nodded.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"She's _thinking_," Ron said with barely contained annoyance.

"Hermione, I was wondering," Harry said urgently, "what about the Angelica Healing Draught that we learned in Potions last term? It's supposed to reverse the effects of the Possession Curse. Could that work?"

"I thought of that," she said, putting her quill down and looking up at Harry. "I'm not sure if it would work, but it's certainly worth a try."

"It reverses the Possession Curse?" Ron asked, visibly relieved. "Well, that's all we need then, right?"

"Well, I don't know," Hermione hedged. "Because I'm not convinced that what's happened to Ginny is the result of a Possession Curse."

Ron looked incredulous. "What do you mean?" he said loudly. "He's obviously possessing her. What else would you call it?"

"Ron, keep your voice down!" Hermione whispered back. She exchanged a look with Harry and took a deep breath. "The Possession Curse doesn't just allow another entity's spirit to take over a person's body; it causes them to lose the ability to control their own actions."

"Yeah, we know. That's what happened to Ginny before with the Chamber," Ron said impatiently.

"But that's not what's happening to her _now_," Hermione reminded him. "From what she's told me, she loses track of time occasionally, but she is still in control of herself. Riddle hasn't made her do anything that she doesn't remember afterwards. When he was possessing her through the diary, there were long periods of time when he acted through her and she had no knowledge of what she was doing.

"I think that when Harry destroyed the diary, whatever part of his soul that was left in her infused itself with hers somehow. Now that he's been reawakened, he experiences everything she does, all her thoughts and feelings; they're an open book to him. But I've never known of a case where a possessing spirit had such a sympathetic relationship with its host."

"I'd hardly call him sympathetic," Ron mumbled.

"No," Hermione explained. "I mean sympathetic in the sense that they have formed a relationship where whatever affects one affects the other, and vice versa. When he possessed her through the diary, he was a separate entity. But now, it's like… it's like they're one being."

Harry and Ron both fell silent, thinking.

"Will it hurt her if she takes the Angelica Potion anyway?" Harry asked.

Hermione frowned. "It could cause her some pain if their link is broken, if Tom's spirit is forced out of her, but I don't think it would be life threatening. On the other hand, it might not even affect her at all. The Angelica Potion is designed to allow the host's consciousness to become strong enough that it can regain control of itself and push the spirit out. That doesn't seem to be a problem with Ginny, but right now, I'm not sure we have any other options." She fixed Harry with a shrewd stare. "You're not thinking of breaking into Snape's storeroom and stealing it, are you?"

"What other choice do we have?" Harry asked. "It takes a month to brew. Besides, I'd only be taking the potion Ellie and I made ourselves, so technically, it's mine."

"I doubt Professor Snape would agree with you," she said.

"Who cares what Snape thinks? Get your cloak, get the potion, and get out. It's not like we haven't done it before," Ron reasoned.

Harry nodded, his mind made up. "I'll do it tonight."

"Harry," Hermione cautioned, "it's not as simple as just giving her this potion."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I said that Ginny and Tom have a sympathetic relationship, I meant it. Everything that Ginny does, everything that she talks about or even _thinks _about, he knows. You cannot let her know what this potion is. If Tom thinks that she is trying to get rid of him, he may do something drastic. He is already aware that the three of us know about his existence now. But the less information we feed Ginny about what we're planning, the safer she will be."

Harry took a moment to absorb this new knowledge and nodded gravely. He stood up. "I'll see you later," he said, leaving them to stare after him.

"Hermione," Ron said softly, and she turned to look at him. "If this doesn't work, what are we…"

She reached across the table and grasped his hand tightly in hers. "If this doesn't work, we'll keep looking and trying until something _does_ work." She looked intently at him and his blue eyes looked back at her. Hermione felt a remnant of the old spark they had once shared, but he soon broke the contact and withdrew his hand from hers.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

Hermione shuffled through the stack of books she had gotten from the shelves. "Here, look through this one for any mention of disembodied spirits."

Ron took the heavy book from her and opened it to the front page, scanning it intently. More intently than Hermione had ever seen him do before on the many occasions he had helped her with research. She watched him thoughtfully for a few moments before returning to her own reading.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Harry bounded up the stairs to his dormitory. It was getting dark now; soon the halls would be clear and he could slip down to the dungeons and retrieve the Angelica Potion. He hadn't seen Ginny since dinner and wondered where she might be. As he passed the sixth year boys' room on his way to the top of Gryffindor tower, he noticed that the door was open and saw Colin sitting on the edge of his bed, his head and shoulders bent low.

"Hey, Colin," Harry said, pausing breathlessly in the doorway. "Have you seen Ginny tonight?"

Colin looked up. His face showed a trace of surprise at the sight of Harry, then hardened again. He gave a little snort of disbelief and shook his head. "Yeah, I've seen her."

Harry became concerned at the tone of his voice. "Where is she? Is she alright?" he asked.

"I wouldn't really know," Colin said dejectedly. "She… um… we're not together anymore."

Harry felt a little jolt in his stomach. "What?"

"She told me that she felt trapped," Colin said, looking up at Harry with an accusing glare, "that someone else was preventing her from being with me. Well, you can have her now."

Harry felt shocked and indignant at Colin's implication. "What do you mean _I_ can have her?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Colin said. "I know she's been sneaking off to see you at night."

Harry exhaled and rolled his eyes. "Colin, that's the stupidest thing you've ever said. And that includes when you were a first year! Of course we haven't been meeting at night. Ginny would never do that to you. _I_ would never do that to you. We're just friends."

"Is that right," Colin said bitterly. "She told me you kissed her."

Harry was momentarily silenced, and the pause was enough to confirm Colin's suspicions. "Colin, she had nothing to do with that," Harry explained quickly, stepping farther into the room. "It was entirely my fault. I was stupid, I was lonely, and I needed her. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

Colin shrugged. "It's a bit late now."

Harry turned to go, sensing that Colin wanted to be alone, when suddenly he stopped. "Did she tell you anything else about that night? You know, the night that I… kissed her?"

Colin gave a hollow laugh. "Why, are there more details you'd like to share? Because I really don't need to hear them."

"No, I just… No. Sorry."

"Harry?" Colin called, and Harry paused in the doorway. "You know what's going on with her, don't you. All the times she disappeared and made excuses, I tried so hard to get her to tell me what was going on. But she told _you_, didn't she."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he said the only thing he could. "I'm sorry, Colin. I really am."

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Other than a close encounter with Mrs. Norris in the Entrance Hall, Harry had no problems slipping down to the dungeons, concealed by his cloak, to retrieve his and Ellie's Angelica Potion from Snape's storeroom. He carried the small vial beneath his robes as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Luckily, Ginny was already sitting with Ron and Hermione, now that she and Colin were no longer an item.

"I never liked him anyway," Ron was saying in a brotherly attempt to soothe what he assumed was his sister's broken heart.

"_Ron_," Hermione chastised, motioning for him to stop talking.

"Really, you two," Ginny said wearily. "You don't have to walk on eggshells. I'm fine."

Harry slipped into the seat next to Ginny. Ron and Hermione turned to him with raised eyebrows, and he answered with a silent nod.

Ginny glanced nervously at Harry and managed a smile. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," he returned. They hadn't had a chance to talk about the kiss they had shared at the Burrow. Not that there was much to say, but now that Colin was not an obstacle, it seemed to Harry that maybe they _should_ talk about it. Though at the moment, there were other, more pressing matters to deal with.

Hermione cleared her throat to get Harry's attention and pointed covertly to Ginny's glass of pumpkin juice. Harry's eyes shifted to Ron, then back to Hermione, wondering if it was wise to slip Ginny this potion in the middle of the Great Hall, not knowing how it would affect her. On the other hand, this was the most inconspicuous place to get her to take a drink without suspecting anything. If it came to it, they could just rush her to the hospital wing and claim she had become ill, though he fervently hoped that would not be the case.

"_Now?_" he mouthed to Hermione. She gave a slight nod while Ron focused his attention on Ginny.

"You know, Gin," Ron stalled, "you should eat some more. It'll make you feel better. How about some kippers?" he asked, gesturing down the table to the platter full of tiny fish.

"No thanks," Ginny replied with a shake of her head.

"No, really," Ron pressed. "You know what mum always says, 'A full stomach will banish those grumps away.'"

"She doesn't say that," Ginny frowned as Ron heaped a spoonful of kippers onto her plate.

"Well, she thinks it," he replied. "C'mon, Gin. Just eat one."

While Ron cajoled her, Harry held his own glass of pumpkin juice down low by his side and poured the contents of the vial into it, watching the juice take on a slightly reddish hue. He swirled it around and set it down by his plate when Hermione dramatically dropped her fork on the other side of the table.

"Oh," she sighed. "Ginny, can you reach my fork? I've dropped it; I think it's by your foot."

Ginny leaned down to look under the table and rummaged around by her feet while Harry quickly switched his glass with hers.

"Thanks," Hermione said, retrieving the fork from Ginny and wiping it on her napkin.

"You're welcome," she said, then started to gather her things. "Well, I'm off. See you lot later."

"Ginny, wait!" Harry said loudly. She turned to him with a perplexed look. "You didn't finish your pumpkin juice," he said, holding the glass out to her. "Don't want it to go to waste."

Ginny rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. "Fine," she said, taking the glass and swiftly downing its contents, setting it back on the table with a sharp rap. "There. Anything else you'd like me to eat before I go?" The three of them looked at her expectantly, but said nothing. "Right then."

They waited until she had taken a few steps and exchanged nervous glances with each other before springing up from the table and following her into the Entrance Hall, keeping a keen eye out for any reaction to the potion. Ginny was halfway up the marble staircase when she suddenly stopped, turned around, and charged back down the stairs toward them with a glint of something not-quite-right in her eye.

"What did you do?" she hissed, making a beeline for Harry and ignoring the other two.

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "We're just heading to class."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and flicked left and right to Ron and Hermione standing on either side of Harry. They watched as a change came over her countenance, as if her eyes had been replaced with other, more discerning ones, and her jaw hardened in anger.

"Don't you think I know when someone is trying to deceive me?" she asked in a voice not quite her own. "I will not be summoned and discarded like some child's toy that is no longer wanted."

A sweat began to break out on Ginny's forehead as she locked eyes with Harry, but he forced himself to remain calm. He could not let Tom think that he was correct in his assumptions. "Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked, adopting a tone of friendly concern. "You were fine at breakfast just now; do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, maybe those kippers just didn't agree with you, Gin," Ron said carefully. "I thought they tasted a bit dodgy myself."

The light in Ginny's eyes turned from one of righteous indignation to confusion, and Hermione stepped forward and put her hand gently on the other girl's arm. "Ginny, would you like me to walk up to Madam Pomfrey with you?"

"No, no I'll be alright," she said, shaking free of Hermione's hand, but a look of fear crossed her face, and she stared at Harry again for a long moment before turning and heading up the stairs once more.

"That was too close, Hermione," Harry said under his breath.

"No one said this was going to be easy," Hermione breathed, squeezing Harry's arm. "Now we know what we're up against. But, Harry, you _cannot_ let her know what we're doing. It will only put her in greater danger," she said with urgency.

"I know," he said, his throat becoming tight as he watched her walk up the stairs and out of sight, wishing he didn't feel so helpless.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice," Ron said a few evenings later as he and Hermione sat in the Prefects' Meeting Room. "All this reading about blood magic is starting to make me feel creepy; I need to get out." He stood and rubbed his eyes. They had spent every free moment poring over books while Harry tried to keep tabs on Ginny's whereabouts.

"Alright, I'll keep working," Hermione said, looking up from a large tome on advanced spells and incantations.

"Have you found anything useful?" he asked, shouldering his school bag.

She shook her head. "A few ideas, but nothing I'm confident of yet. And if we're going to try something on her again, I want to make sure it's right this time. What about you?"

Ron sighed. "I came across some dark magic spells, but they all involve a blood sacrifice of some kind, and I'm not about to go there. Not yet." He raised his hand in a tired wave as he walked around the table to the door. "See you later."

"See you," she said, watching him leave and noting the slump in his shoulders. He had really been working hard, she thought. But of course, it was his sister's life at stake, and she knew that Ron would do anything for Ginny.

Hermione buried her head back in the books and passed the next half hour quietly until the door opened again.

"Back so soon?" she asked, looking up. But it was not Ron's face that greeted her.

"Oh, I should have known," Draco said impatiently. "Don't you ever revise in your _room_?"

"No," she said curtly, turning back to her book. "But there's plenty of space in here, you needn't be so put out."

Draco hesitated for a moment, then swung his bag onto the table and took a seat across from her. Without another word, he took out his books and parchment and soon the scratching sound of his quill was the only thing disturbing the silence.

A short while later, Hermione's eyes were beginning to blur. She looked up from her book and watched Draco scribbling for a moment. He paused and stretched out his left arm, rubbing it absently before returning to his writing.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Hermione asked.

Draco glanced up at her and back down again. "Nothing."

"You've been rubbing it all day, I noticed it in class. Did you get hurt?"

"Didn't know you were so interested in my body," he smirked, not taking his eyes off his parchment. "I'll have to pay better attention from now on."

Hermione ignored his comment, but continued to watch him intently. Something about the way he had been rubbing his arm nagged at her. He had been clutching at it, running his thumb back and forth over the same small spot.

The realization hit her full force and the blood drained out of her face.

"Malfoy," she said shakily, "let me see your arm."

"Sod off, Granger."

She stood and walked around the table, stopping in front of Draco. Her hands were shaking, but she had to know. It couldn't be true. She swallowed and reached out to touch his wrist, but he jerked it away, standing up quickly. His breathing was becoming rapid.

"Granger, if you don't back off, I swear I'll…"

"You've done it, haven't you," she whispered, her heart pounding. "You've gotten it. The Mark."

The expression in his eyes changed so rapidly that it was all Hermione could do to keep up as she stared at him unbelievingly. Surprise, fear, shame, stubbornness, anger.

"No," he replied evenly.

"I don't believe you. If you don't have it, show me."

She made another grab at him, but his quick reflexes took hold and he grasped both of her wrists, holding them tightly.

"Don't."

"Why?" she asked angrily.

His face now turned from anger to desperation. "Hermione," he said quietly. "Please don't. You don't know what you're asking."

The fact that he had used her first name did not escape her, but it did nothing to assuage the dread settling in her stomach. "Are you a Death Eater?"

He paused, his unreadable grey eyes boring into her own. "It's better if you think I'm not."

She wrenched her hands free of his grip, stumbling backwards and bringing her hands to her mouth. "Oh my God, Malfoy. How could you do this? You're a student, you're Head Boy! Your father is in Azkaban serving a life sentence because he threw his life away to Voldemort! Is that really what you want to become? I thought you were smarter than that. I _know_ you're smarter than that."

"You say that like you think I had a choice," he spat.

"We all make choices," she said, shaking.

"Well, when one of the choices is being tortured to death, it does make the remaining option somewhat attractive," he said forcefully.

"Do you really hate Harry so much that you would do this to yourself?"

Draco scoffed. "Not everything is about your precious Potter."

"What else could it be?" Hermione demanded. "Why else would Voldemort…"

"Stop saying his name!"

"I will not! Why else would Voldemort want you if not to deliver Harry to him. What else could you possibly offer him, you're only 17!"

Draco drew his wand and leveled it at Hermione. His hand was steady, but his voice was shaking.

"Would you like to see what else I can offer him?" The rest of the color drained out of Hermione's face. "Promise me you won't tell anyone else about this," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"I can't…"

"Promise me or I'll _Obliviate_ you right now."

Hermione looked frantically around the room, eyeing her wand lying on the table. "You can't ask me that," she said angrily. "I won't just stand by and let you hand Harry over to Voldemort."

"Damn it! This isn't about Potter!" He lowered his wand and ran his other hand through his hair.

"But you hate him," Hermione accused. "You always have done."

"Does that make me evil then? Hating Harry?" Draco was beyond frustration now. "Is that where we've ended up? Everyone on the good side form a line behind Harry and the rest of you be damned. Is that it? Because if hatred makes you evil, then I think you're in the wrong queue."

Hermione stared at him, stunned. "I don't hate you."

Draco laughed. "And you think _I'm_ in denial."

"I'm not like you, Malfoy."

Draco walked toward her slowly, forcing her to retreat until he had her backed against the wall. "You're so like me that you would rather die than admit it."

"Go to hell."

Draco grabbed her shoulders and pulled her roughly to him, looking at her so intensely that she couldn't look away. "Haven't you heard? Hell is empty. All the devils are here."

Their eyes remained locked in a fiery glare. He was pressed up against her so closely that if Hermione hadn't been so repulsed, she might have thought he was trying to seduce her. She felt the tip of his wand press sharply into her side and thought she saw a flicker of regret pass over his eyes.

"Draco," she pleaded.

"_Obliviate_," he whispered softly and released her body as it slumped to the floor.

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

Credit note: Draco's line "Hell is empty. All the devils are here." is taken from Shakespeare's _The Tempest_.


	22. Part of Me

Chapter 22 - Part of Me

_I am her love, I am her hatred. I am her joy and I am her loathing and her abhorrence. I am her unrequited passions. I am her guilt and her remembrance. I am her beautiful despair. I am the futility of all her wishes. Out of blood and tears and ink, she made me. And I will never leave her._

_Draco Veritas, Ch. 17 _by Cassandra Clare

"Hermione? Hermione!" Draco whispered, crouching down next to her still form. "C'mon, it wasn't that bad of a blow," he said desperately, brushing the hair out of her face. He'd had no choice but to _Obliviate_ her for what she knew, but a panic was starting to rise in his chest at the sight of her limp body. "Damn it, Granger, wake up!"

Hermione stirred and her eyes opened groggily. She looked around, confused at first, then startled to find Draco hovering over her. She sat up too quickly and brought a hand to her head. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Draco said casually, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. "One minute we're talking and the next you're lying in a heap on the floor. Really, Granger, there are easier ways to get my attention." He took her arm and helped her stand.

Hermione rubbed her head and looked at him, confused. "What were we talking about?"

Draco shrugged. "Don't you remember?"

Hermione furrowed her brow and tried to think. "I remember you coming in and sitting down, and I was reading…" She looked around the room and shook her head. "I have no idea…"

The door to the room opened behind them and Ron entered, tired and windblown from practice. He took in Malfoy's hand on Hermione's shoulder for only a moment before whipping out his wand and pointing it straight at Draco.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" he said harshly.

Draco glanced at him lazily. "Weasley, put that thing away before you hurt yourself," he said, taking a step back. "Granger fainted and I was just trying to help her up."

"You _what_?" Ron hurried to Hermione's side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I think I just need something to eat. I feel a bit lightheaded."

"You've been working to hard," Ron chastised. "Why don't you go down to the kitchens and I'll meet you there in a minute." He took her arm and gently pulled her away from Malfoy.

"Yes, alright," she relented. "I'll just gather my books."

"I'll do it," Ron said. "Just go."

Hermione looked apprehensively between Ron and Draco, but her aching head got the better of her and she finally moved toward the door. "Thank you," she said, glancing back over her shoulder at the boys.

"You're welcome," they answered in unison. Ron glared at Draco while the Head Boy rolled his eyes and sat down at the table again, pulling his books toward him. Ron waited until the door closed, then began to gather Hermione's things, stuffing them into her large book bag.

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Ron wanted to know.

"I wasn't aware I needed your permission to use the Prefects' Meeting Room," Draco scoffed, not looking up. "I am the Head Boy, you know."

"Don't remind me," Ron said under his breath.

Draco's jaw tightened as he fixed Ron with a defiant stare. "Look, in case you've already forgotten, it's a good thing I was here. Otherwise she'd still be lying on the floor passed out cold. So why don't you stop your whinging and go take care of your girlfriend. Sorry… _ex_-girlfriend."

Ron shoved the last of Hermione's parchments into the bag and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Draco put his book down and took a deep breath. His gaze turned to the spot on the floor where Hermione had lay, and he rubbed his thumb absently over his left forearm.

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The weeks passed slowly as one gray day blended into another. The first bright day of winter did not come until early February, and the students thronged onto the grounds, blinking their eyes in the sunlight. Ginny sat on the front steps of the castle watching her classmates as they bounded around on the crisp grass and tested the ice that had frozen along the edge of the lake. The past few weeks had been long and emotional for Ginny, and now she welcomed the warmth of the sun on her face. Behind her, more footsteps descend the stairs, but instead of continuing on, they stopped beside her and a cloak swished against her shoulder.

"Hi," Harry smiled down at her.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Hi, Harry," she said, turning her eyes back to the landscape as he sat down beside her.

"It's funny how a sunny day can change your whole outlook on life, isn't it?" he asked.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your outlook on life has changed?" she asked, amused.

He shook his head. "Not really. Yours?"

"Don't think so," she sighed.

"Well, I reckon we're hopeless then," he concluded. "Let's go for a walk."

Ginny bristled and glanced at him coldly. "Why, so you can tell Ron that you kept an eye on me all afternoon?"

"No," Harry said, bending down to pick at something on his shoe. "Because I'd like to take a walk with you."

"Oh," Ginny said, abashed at her own rudeness. "Alright then."

They set off across the lawn down to the lakeshore, walking along its edge until they came to the path that followed a wide stream leading from the lake to the village of Hogsmeade. They watched the water burble along under a thin layer of ice and after a few minutes, Harry chuckled softly.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"I was just remembering… we've taken this walk before," he said, smiling.

"We have?"

Harry nodded. "It was a year ago at Christmas. Do you remember? I was sitting out here on the rocks and you found me, and we walked along this path together."

Ginny thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up with the memory. "Oh, yes, I remember that! Hermione told me not to bother you."

"Did she?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Mmm," Ginny nodded. "But I did anyway."

"No," Harry smiled. "You didn't bother me."

They continued on at a leisurely pace, each remembering their own versions of that day.

"Did you know," Ginny said after a bit, "that was the first day I realized I could tell what you were feeling."

"Really? You never told me that. Why do you think it happened then?"

Ginny thought. "Maybe because your emotions were in such a jumble, they were all reaching out to be heard. You seemed so lost back then."

Harry frowned as he remembered the pain of that time just after he'd lost Sirius. "And what did they tell you?"

"I don't remember exactly. Just that you were sad. And tired."

Harry didn't respond, but kept walking slowly while Ginny's mind flashed through scenes from the past year.

"A lot has happened since then," she said.

Harry looked at her sideways and gave a small smile in agreement. "Yeah," he said. "A lot has."

"Harry?" Ginny asked, stopping and facing him.

"What?" he replied, turning to look at her.

Ginny stared at him, trying to work out what she wanted to say, and his eyes didn't leave hers as he stood waiting.

"That night at the Burrow, when you kissed me," she began. She saw the blush rise in Harry's cheeks, and he looked at the ground briefly before bringing his eyes back to hers.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Was that…" Ginny stopped and took a breath. "Did you mean to do that, or were you just lonely because of Ellie?"

Harry paused. He had been asking himself the same question ever since that night and had not yet come up with a satisfactory answer. "Both," he said. She nodded reluctantly, as if that was the answer she'd been afraid of. "But," he said, taking a step closer to her, "I don't regret it, if that's what you're really asking."

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before replying, "Good," and continuing down the path. They didn't say any more until they reached the gate marking the border of the Hogwarts grounds. Harry turned to head back to the castle, but Ginny paused, leaning her arms on the stile and looking through the thick trees on the other side.

Realizing that she was not following, Harry turned around. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

She was silent for so long that he thought maybe she hadn't heard him. Suddenly she said, "Harry, I should tell you something."

He came and stood beside her. "What is it?"

"Have you ever been past this gate, beyond the border?" she asked, pointing through the trees.

He thought for a moment. "No, I don't think I've ever been outside the border except on the road to Hogsmeade. Why?"

"Just up the side of that hill there, there's a cave."

Harry looked in the direction she was pointing, but could see nothing but thick tree trunks and foliage. "How do you know?" he asked, feeling slightly nervous of the answer.

She took a deep breath. "I've been there."

Harry's heart began to race, but he tried to stay calm. "How long ago was this?"

"The most recent time," she said, not meeting his eyes, "was last night."

Harry started in surprise and looked through the trees again. "You've been _sneaking_ off school grounds? Ginny, do you know how completely _mental_ that is?" he said, his voice rising. "You asked us, _begged_ us not to hover over you and watch you all the time and we didn't! We trusted you! Did you go out there _alone_?"

"That's the thing," she said shakily. "I'm not always alone when I go there. Sometimes… Tom is there, too."

Harry paused in confusion. "But I thought he was always with you."

Ginny shook her head. "He is, but when we're in that cave… I can see him. I can... touch him." Her eyes finally met his and she cringed at the fire in them.

"Don't you even care what you're doing to yourself, what you're opening yourself up to by trying to do this all on your own? How many times have you gone up there?" he demanded.

Ginny's lip trembled. "Three."

"_Th_-," he gasped and a growl of frustration escaped him, causing Ginny to flinch.

"But it's not like before," she rushed on. "He's not using my strength to take form. It's something about that cave; he can only do it there, it hasn't happened any other time."

Harry clasped his hands behind his head and paced in a tight circle, anger, worry, guilt and adrenaline coursing through him all at once.

"Harry, I'm telling you this because I don't want to lie to you anymore," Ginny pleaded, alarmed at the way he was acting. "But it's just so complicated. I thought I was strong enough; I wanted so badly to protect all of you from him. I thought if I could keep him from doing any more harm that everything would be all right. I could stand anything, Harry, if it meant keeping you safe," she said desperately as Harry continued to pace. "I swore to myself that he wouldn't use me to get to you this time, but he's wearing me down, and I don't know how much longer I can stand it." As she spoke, she could see Harry's breathing getting heavier and his jaw clenching in anger.

"Say something," she said tentatively.

Harry shook his head, at a loss to put all of his thoughts into words. "What is it?" He finally asked in a helpless voice. "Do you still feel some kind of loyalty to him even after all he's done to you? Is that why you won't let me in? Is that why you don't trust me to go through this with you? It has to be more than just protecting me, otherwise you would have gone to someone else for help. What is it?"

Ginny hung her head, unable to forgive herself for what she was about to say. "He's the only one who knows me completely, Harry. The only one who has seen my innermost thoughts, my desires, my failings. Maybe there's a part of me that wishes there was someone else who could know me as completely as he does. But he's the only one. And when he calls me… I know I shouldn't go, Harry. I know I don't _have_ to go. But…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Sometimes I _want_ to." Her face crumpled and she drew a shuddering breath. "What does that make me, for wanting to be close to something so vile, so… I'm a horrible, horrible person."

Harry's throat tightened at the sight of her. "Ginny, whatever he's told you, whatever he's tried to make you believe about yourself… it's all lies. I've seen him too, remember? You didn't see the hatred on his face. You didn't see him call that basilisk out of the Chamber. There is _nothing_ good in him. He may be able to see into your innermost thoughts, but _I know you_." Harry took a step closer to her and brought her eyes up to his. "I care about you so much, I would give anything for you not to go through one more minute of this."

She blinked in surprise. "You care about me?"

"Ginny," he said with a trace of hurt in his voice. "Of course I care about you." He enveloped her in a fierce hug. "How could you not know that?" he murmured.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I know you do, of course I know that."

They stood wrapped in each other, and Harry thought there was nothing he'd rather do than hold this girl in his arms for as long as she would let him. "No more secrets, alright?" he whispered, and she nodded against his chest.

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Harry rarely left Ginny's side after that, and when he was forced to be separated from her, during classes or at night, she was always in his thoughts. But his constant attention made the strain on Ginny more acute than ever as Tom redoubled his efforts to lure her away from Harry and the renewed feelings that she was beginning to have toward him. Harry tried to reassure her that things were under control, but was still wary of letting her know about Ron and Hermione's efforts to find some way to get rid of Tom. Because the truth was, the effort wasn't going very well.

Over the past month, Hermione had gone from confident to unsure to angrily flummoxed at not being able to find a solution to Ginny's problem. She had spent hours in the library, but had discarded every spell, potion, or charm she had found for one reason or another. The depth of the magic that had allowed Tom Riddle to have remained latent in Ginny all this time, coupled by the fact of _who_ it was that was possessing her and the dark magic that he himself was capable of, made any standard spirit-banishing spell ineffective. It was going to take something much stronger than anything they had found so far.

Hermione slammed shut _Magic of the Dead_, which she had only pulled from the Restricted Section as a last resort, and rubbed her tired eyes. She had been neglecting her own schoolwork and sometimes, when she was very tired, she felt a nagging at the back of her mind as if there was some knowledge that lay just beyond her reach. But when she tried to grasp it, it was gone.

"Ron, I can't look anymore tonight," she sighed. "I haven't even started that essay for Flitwick yet and the rounds schedule needs to be done… I'm sorry, I just don't know where else to look. I know Ginny feels strongly about word of this not getting out, but I think maybe it's time we brought in some other people here. The memory of Tom Riddle may not be as huge a threat as a fully-reborn Voldemort, but I still think Dumbledore would want to know... Ron, are you even listening to me?"

Ron's head had been buried in a book called _A History of Love Potions and Why They're a Really Bad Idea_. It had been left on the table next to theirs by a group of giggling fourth years and the flashy cover had caught his eye. Flipping through it lazily, he wondered what exactly the moral threshold was of forcing someone to fall in love when suddenly, he looked up from the book with a serious expression.

"Hermione," he said slowly, "what do you know about love potion antidotes?"

"Ron, _focus_," she said in exasperation. "I'm telling you there's nothing more I can do here. We've got to go to Dumbledore and get some help with this!"

Ron shook his head and stood abruptly, clutching the book in his hands. "I think I know how we can get rid of him."

Ron took off through the library without saying another word, leaving Hermione to stare after him open-mouthed. "Ron!" she whispered loudly, jumping up after him and walking quickly toward the exit, not daring to run in front of Madam Pince. She finally reached the corridor and quickened her pace to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" she called.

"I have to find Harry." He slipped behind the tapestry concealing the passage that would take him up to the seventh floor. "What if we don't need to find a spell or a potion to fix this? What if we just needed to help Ginny do this herself?"

"Herself?" Hermione questioned, hurrying after him.

Ron burst through the portrait hole and headed straight for Harry, who was sitting on the window seat at the far side of the common room where he could read for Transfiguration and watch the girls' staircase at the same time.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron wanted to know.

"Upstairs," Harry said, looking up from his book. "We were out flying for a while; I thought it would help take her mind off things. We just got back."

"Good," Ron nodded. "Read that." He handed the book to Harry and pointed to a paragraph halfway down the page.

Harry read in silence and when he had finished, looked up at Ron sharply. "Ron, Ginny's a…"

"I know," Ron confirmed. "I just didn't know if _you_ knew."

"Ginny's a what?" Hermione asked.

"That book says that when two souls have been connected together through magic, there are some cases where a Legilicor might be able to use their powers to sever the connection," Ron said.

"So?" Hermione asked.

"A Legilicor is someone who…" Ron began.

"Yes, I know what a Legilicor is," Hermione interrupted, "but what does that have to do with Ginny?"

"Ginny is a Legilicor," Harry said quietly.

"What?!" Hermione stared, completely stunned. Ron handed her the book and she read:

_Because of their aptitude for entering into a spiritual union with another soul through emotional connections, the experienced Legilicor is one of the few witches or wizards who possess the power to manipulate or sever these soul-connections without the use of potions or spells._

_However, this process requires the Legilicor to enter into a trance whereby the witch or wizard can experience a vicarious communion with the other soul. It is only from within this communion that the soul ties can be broken. The risk can be slight or very great, depending on the willingness of the connected soul to be released from the union._

"Not only is Ginny a Legilicor," Ron said. "She's the best chance we have of getting rid of Tom Riddle once and for all."

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Ginny stood in her room looking out her window, her broomstick still clutched in her hand. Flying around the Quidditch pitch with Harry in the cold twilight had invigorated her. Her fingers twitched against the wooden handle as she thought about the paces Harry had put her through out on the pitch. When he had flown alongside her, his quiet presence had made her feel safe.

_"Safe?"_ Tom asked. _"You think that Harry can keep you safe from me?"_

_"Harry is good, Tom. Good. And I'm safe with him whether you're here or not."_

_"Yes. Good, noble, righteous. So I've heard,"_ Tom said in a bored tone. _"It's a pity that you had to end your flying outing so soon this evening since you were so enjoying it. I could... _feel_ how much you were enjoying it. Wouldn't you like to go out for another spin?"_

Ginny looked out the window at the clear night and her fingers twitched again. _"Tom, you know that Harry is sitting downstairs. You know he won't let me leave without him."_

_"No, of course not. Harry is, as you said, good. He's become very attentive lately hasn't he?"_ Ginny remained silent_. "But if you _could_ go flying, it is a beautiful night for it. Unfortunately, you've been confined to your room."_

A jolt of indignation shot through Ginny. She was no one's prisoner. Not Tom's, not Harry's, no one's. She pushed open the latch on the tall tower window and climbed onto her desk chair, letting the cold air spill over her face.

_"Just a quick turn around the castle,"_ Tom prodded. _"No one needs to know. You'll be back in a trice."_

Setting her jaw, Ginny squeezed out onto the windowsill with her broom. She stood on the precipice, promising herself that she would only take one loop around the grounds and then come straight back. She missed flying by herself and the feeling of freedom that it gave her.

Behind her, voices sounded in the stairwell and she realized her roommates would be coming through the door at any second. Taking a deep breath, she jumped into the night, streaking off around Gryffindor Tower as fast as her broom could carry her.

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"Ron, this is really amazing, but I don't think that Ginny is under the influence of a _love potion_," Hermione said skeptically.

"But so what?" Ron reasoned. "The effect is the same, isn't it? Their souls are connected together. Maybe she can use whatever power she has to break it."

Hermione frowned. "I don't know. This says it would take an _experienced_ Legilicor to sever the connection. Is Ginny really that experienced with her powers?" she asked doubtfully. "I didn't even know she _had_ those sorts of powers. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Ron shrugged. "It never really came up. I mean, it's not something she talks about. I only know because mum told me once. I'm not even sure if she knows how to use them."

"She does," Harry said.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "How do you know?" he asked.

"Um…" Harry cleared his throat. "She's used them on me once or twice." Hermione's eyebrows rose even higher than Ron's. "But I don't think she really knows how to control it yet," Harry said. "It's all pretty new to her."

"Ron," Hermione said, "we need to find out everything we can about Legilicors."

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Ginny flew out over Hogwarts in alternating circles: first over the lake, then around the castle, then shooting out over the cliffs to the water again. The lights of the castle blinked behind her, creating a comforting glow.

_"Ginevra, you're getting tired,"_ Tom said after a while. _"Perhaps you should rest on the shore for a moment. I wouldn't want you to fall off your broom."_

_"Don't tell me what to do, Tom,"_ she said tersely.

_"It was merely a suggestion,"_ he replied.

But he was right; she _was_ getting tired. To her right, a small, rocky beach could be seen along the edge of the lake and she descended slowly toward it. Touching down, she sat on the ground pulling her cloak around her more tightly.

_"You didn't want to see me tonight, I take it?"_ Tom asked in a seemingly injured tone. _"The cave is not far; you could walk there. I do so like to see your face when I talk to you."_

_"I don't want to see you _ever_,"_ Ginny said.

_"Ginevra, you cut me to the quick. After all, seeing is believing. You believe now that I am real, don't you?"_

A cold wind rippled off the water, and Ginny buried her face in her knees to keep warm. _"I hate you for doing this to me_," she said.

_"Hate." _Tom mulled the word over with a trace of a smile in his voice. _"It is a powerful feeling, isn't it? And yet when I call you, you still come. Love and hatred are not so far apart as you think."_

_"I do _not_ love you,"_ Ginny spat.

_"But my dear girl, you gave yourself to me willingly. Don't you remember? You poured out your soul to me in the pages of a diary, and in return I poured myself into you. What could be more intimate than that?"_

_"I didn't give myself to you, you bastard, you _took_ me. I was just a _child_ Tom, how could you do that to me?"_

Tom sighed, beginning to tire of this game. _"You were a means to an end, easy to bend to my wishes. But you are mine now, and I will not let you forget it."_

_"No,"_ Ginny ground out. _"I will never belong to you."_

_"I am the only one who sees your true beauty,"_ Tom said coldly, _"the essence of your soul."_

_"No,"_ Ginny said, her breath becoming rapid. _"No, you're not."_

_"I am the only one who sees your true potential, the one who can guide you and nurture your deepest ambitions. Do you think that just anyone could have opened the Chamber of Secrets? Once you learned to succumb to me, we did great things together, my dear one. We could have done more if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's meddling. He always did lack the vision he needed to be truly great."_

_"You're wrong, Tom,"_ Ginny said, gathering courage. _"Harry sees who I really am, and he cares about me anyway. And he would never lie to me or try to manipulate me the way you do. Harry loves me,"_ she said boldly, and then added in a less confident tone, _"I'm sure he does."_

Tom laughed cruelly. _"And when Harry is dead, when I succeed in finally ridding the world of the impossible Boy Who Lived? Who will love you then? Love is weak, it is fleeting, a mirage that people use to give meaning to their own pathetic lives." _He scoffed. _"Look how it has made you lose sight of what you really want, who you really are. It is unacceptable. But you have such passion, Ginevra. Your passion is what will make you strong, what will make us strong together."_

_"I'm leaving, Tom,"_ Ginny said, standing abruptly. But a searing pain ripped through her head as she did so and forced her back to the ground.

_"No,"_ Tom said calmly. _"I think you will stay."_

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Ron raced with Hermione back to the library and followed her to a section that contained books about telepathic and empathic magic. She knew these stacks better than anyone, and he had to trust that she could lead them in the right direction now that he had opened the door.

Hermione began pulling books off the shelves in rapid succession, handing them to Ron until his arms were full. They were able to check the books out just before the library closed and hurried with them back to the common room, where Harry had resumed his post at the bottom of the stairs. When they arrived, he took one of the books from Ron, and the three of them sat at a small table in the corner and began flipping.

"What are we looking for?" Harry asked.

"Anything," Hermione answered, already scanning indexes. "Anything about Legilicors and soul-connections."

Harry's fingers shook slightly as he turned the pages of _Freeing the Mind: A Journey Into the Subconscious_ and thought of Ginny. Ever since he had learned about her excursions to the cave, something had changed about his feelings for her. Where before he had sought merely to protect her, there was now a deeper longing inside of him to be with her, to be the one she looked to for comfort and strength. And he wanted her to be the one who did that for him, too.

He had tried to do that with Ellie, but it had really always been Ginny who had loved him, who had given herself to him unconditionally even when he had pushed her away. When had it happened? When had Ginny gone from being just Ginny to being the one person he wanted more than anything?

"Hermione," Ron asked, looking up from a book called _Reading the Heart_, "isn't one of the twelve uses of dragon's blood something about protection?"

Hermione looked at him, thinking intently. "Yes. Dragon's blood can be used either in potions or by itself to fortify a person's natural self-preservation instinct. It's like extra inner-strength."

"So if Ginny were to try and enter some sort of trance with Riddle, dragon's blood could help her become strong enough to break the link? I mean, since she doesn't know how to use her powers very well, she'll need some help, won't she?"

Hermione's brow furrowed in thought. "Yes, that could work in theory. But dragon's blood is hardly ever used that way. The chances of it working are miniscule."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Because freshly drawn dragon's blood is extremely rare," Hermione answered. "I don't even think Snape has any in his stores. It can last in external applications for months, but if it is to be ingested, it must be drunk within twenty-four hours of being harvested. And since dragons are illegal in Britain, it's nearly impossible to get."

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, who nodded and turned to Hermione. "I know where we can get some," Ron said, pulling out a sheet of fresh parchment. "Leave that to me."

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Ginny struggled to her feet though her head was throbbing. A sickening chill swept through her as she reached for her broom, and she felt Tom coursing through her veins as if their hearts now beat as one.

_"No, Tom. I won't let you!"_ Ginny closed her eyes and concentrated with all her might on images and feelings that she knew would drive him back into the recesses of her mind: her bedroom at the Burrow; a family dinner; the thrill of catching the Snitch; Harry; Harry kissing her…

But Tom would not be swayed so easily. In place of the memories she threw at him, he reached into his own arsenal and pulled out hatred and fear: the diary; her father lying in St. Mungo's from a near-fatal snake bite; the flash of a Death Eater's curse in the Department of Mysteries; the sight of her own cold body on the Chamber floor. But more than all of these, the one he knew would deal the crushing blow was the sight of Harry's face as time after time he had ignored, rejected, and even been hostile to her, viewing her as no more than an annoyance, an embarrassment.

_"If Harry Potter loves _you_," _Tom said cruelly, _"then why isn't he here? Why isn't he by your side instead of safely tucked away in Dumbledore's castle with his _true_ friends, the people he _truly_ cares for?"_

Ginny felt her eyes prick with tears as she felt the blackness of Tom's words closing in on her. But deep inside, she could see a spark of light still shining faintly within her, and as she focused on it, it grew brighter and brighter until she could grab hold of it.

_"I don't care if he loves me or not,"_ Ginny said in a low voice. _"I would still do anything for him; I would give my _life_ for him. And you can't take that away from me."_

The light was so strong in Ginny now that she could feel Tom trying unsuccessfully to break through it. She hung onto it for dear life as the sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hands shook as she clutched the broom handle and swung her leg over it.

_"I'll kill you before I let you get away from me, Ginevra,"_ Tom said in a cold fury.

Through her haze, she opened her eyes and looked for the lights of the castle. Clenching her teeth, she said,_ "Try it,"_ and kicked off the ground hard, speeding away across the lake.

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"You _know_ where we can get freshly harvested dragon's blood?" Hermione boggled.

Ron finished writing a note on his parchment and stood hastily, rolling it into a tight scroll. "Charlie," he said simply.

Hermione stood with her mouth agape. "Ron, Charlie's in _Romania_. Even if we could get an owl there and back in twenty-four hours, harvesting dragon's blood is extremely difficult! Charlie would have to get permission from the Romanian Ministry, not to mention the actual harvesting process itself!"

"Hermione, Charlie knows about Ginny," Harry said, backing up Ron's plan. "And if we tell him that this is her best chance at beating Riddle, he's not going to let some Ministry protocol stand in his way."

Ron turned to Hermione. His jaw was set but his eyes sought her approval. "Trust me," he said softly. "This is going to work."

She held his eyes and he saw her shoulders relax slightly. "Of course I trust you," she said softly.

"Ron, send Hedwig," Harry said. "She's faster than Pig."

Ron nodded and he and Hermione prepared to leave for the owlery when they were suddenly brought up short.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry looked up to see Ginny standing at the entrance to the room. Her hair was damp and her face white. She was shivering, but it was the look of horror and pain in her eyes that made Harry's heart stop. He looked to the girls' staircase and back at Ginny in confusion; how had she gotten out of her room? Ron and Hermione stared open-mouthed as Ginny dropped her broom near the fireplace and made her way over to Harry.

"I…" She brought her arms up and hugged herself, glancing nervously at her brother. "I need you." She looked Harry in the eye and pleaded with him silently. He dropped his book and stood without hesitation as Ginny turned and headed for the portrait hole with no further explanation.

Harry followed, holding up his hand to stop Ron from coming after them. "It's okay, go get Hedwig," he said, taking quick strides across the room.

"How did she…" Ron barked, incredulous.

"Ron," Hermione said, putting a hand on his arm, "Harry's got her; she'll be alright. Let's just go, we don't have much time."

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Harry climbed through the portrait hole and followed her around a corner into the old Gryffindor storage room. As soon as the portrait closed behind him, he reached out for her, but she stepped back and her head shook as if she were afraid for him to come any nearer.

"What happened? You were with him again, weren't you? How did you get out? Why didn't you come get me?" Harry asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

She ignored his questions. He wasn't even sure if she had heard them. "Harry," she began, "I need you to tell me something."

"What is it? Ask me anything."

"Tell me I'm beautiful."

Harry went blank for a moment. This was not what he had been expecting. Here she was, obviously reeling from something horrible, shivering, looking like she might collapse, and she was concerned about how she looked? But then, an image sprung to his mind of Christmas at the Burrow, when he had kissed her. The taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, her eyes so close that he could see the fear and confusion in them.

When he looked at her again, he understood that this was not about his feelings for her. This was about what she needed from him right now. He needed to be strong and calm, just as she had been for him that night at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He walked toward her slowly, not wanting to frighten her.

"Ginny, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You take my breath away."

She closed her eyes, drawing comfort from him. "Tell me I'm a good person."

He moved closer until he was right in front of her, but still he didn't touch her. "You are courageous and strong, and I would trust you with my life. You are the 'goodest' person I know."

She opened her eyes and looked up into his face, searching. "Tell me you love me."

Harry would have said anything at that moment to take away the pain and anguish in her eyes. But as he formed the words, he suddenly knew that not only did he have to tell her this for her own sake, but that he believed it in his own heart as well. This wasn't like what he had felt for Ellie. With her, he had wanted to be sure, had wanted to get it right before laying his heart out, only to have it broken and handed back to him in pieces. But looking into Ginny's eyes now, there was no uncertainty. He knew. He had given his heart to her months ago and she had kept it safe for him until exactly this moment, waiting for him to understand that she was the only one who could love every part of him, whether it was good or bad, whether he was the Boy Who Lived or just plain Harry.

He took her shivering face in his hands. "When you're near me, I never want you to leave. And when we're apart, I think about you all the time. I can't imagine my life without you in it," he said, his face full of emotion. "I love you completely."

Ginny's eyes closed again and her head sank into Harry's chest. She clutched onto his robes to keep herself upright. "Thank you," she sighed as her tears finally came, staining Harry's shirt. He felt her legs buckle and put his arms around her to support her weight as she sank to the floor. She curled over her knees, forehead touching the floor, taking deep breaths and murmuring to herself. Harry strained to hear what she was saying.

"Did you hear that, Tom? He loves me. He loves me." She repeated it over and over. Harry leaned over her protectively, hugging her shoulders until her breathing quieted.

When she was silent, he lifted her up to look at him. "Can you tell me what happened?"

They remained on the floor as Ginny told him about her encounter with Tom. Harry's heart sped up as he listened, filling with shock and anger. Ginny shook as she talked and when she was finished, he gathered her in his arms and held her tight.

"He'll never do this to you again, Gin, I swear it."

Ginny shook her head in resignation. "He's in me, there's nothing you can do."

"I won't. I won't let him do this to you."

"Shh. Just hold me." Ginny pressed her cheek against Harry, feeling the thumping in his chest. As the minutes passed, she felt the tension in his muscles relax and his heartbeat return to normal.

"Harry?" she ventured.

"Yes?" he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry I made you say those things. That wasn't fair." She pulled away and looked up at him.

He shook his head. "I meant it."

"Yes, but I shouldn't have forced you to say it like that. I just really needed to hear it."

"I know," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "But I meant every word. I just didn't realize how much until I said it out loud."

"Do you really love me?" she asked, feeling his emotions swirling around her, but not sure if she should let herself believe it.

"Yes, don't you feel it?" he said as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I love you." He kissed her cheek. "I love you." Then he took her mouth fully onto his, moving his hands through her hair and pulling her closer.

Ginny felt his warmth spread through her to her fingers and toes. Her heart swelled with happiness as she drank him in, clutching his strong arms. When they broke apart, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, too."

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_A/N: Finally! Our hero and heroine are together at last. They still have a big struggle ahead of them, but now they can face it together. And there was much rejoicing in the land. Hope you all have a safe and Happy New Year!_


	23. Darkness

Chapter 23 - Darkness

Harry's eyes flicked to the windows of the library, searching the skies. He had been alert and watchful all day, but it was already evening and there was still no sign of Hedwig.

"What are you looking for?" Ginny asked, sitting beside him.

"What? Nothing," Harry replied, turning to her. He noted the concerned look in her eyes and reached under the table to find her hand, giving it a squeeze. "It's nothing," he repeated with a soft smile.

"Hi, Ginny, is now a good time?" Neville Longbottom approached their table with an armful of books, looking expectantly at Ginny.

"Sure," she smiled. She turned to Harry. "Neville is going to help me with my Herbology assignment. I've fallen a bit behind."

"Oh," Harry nodded.

Neville sat down, and soon he and Ginny had their heads bent together in deep conversation while Harry continued to fidget and glance at the windows.

"Gin," he said finally, "you'll be alright here for a few minutes, won't you?"

Ginny looked up, alarmed. "Why? Where are you going?"

"I need to run back to the common room for a minute." He lowered his voice and leaned in to her ear. "Stay here, alright? Stay with Neville."

Ginny nodded and watched as Harry jogged quickly out of sight. Turning back to her textbook, she tried to concentrate on what Neville was saying, but an apprehension settled in her stomach. After a few minutes, the words on the page blurred and she began to feel nauseous.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Neville asked. Her face had gone pale and her breathing was shallow.

"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Okay," Neville said, uncertain if he should press her further. "So, the yarrow root can be used to..."

But the sound of Neville's voice was replaced by a rushing in her ears, and her mind became clouded as she felt her body stand even though she had not intended to.

"Actually, Neville," she said in a strained voice, "I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm going to go up to the hospital wing."

"Yes, maybe you should," he agreed. "You don't look very well. I'll go with you." He made to stand, but she held up her hand.

"No, no. I can make it alright. You just stay here. Stay here and when Harry comes back, tell him I've gone to see Madam Pomfrey. Can you do that?"

"Are you sure? I don't mind..." he offered.

"No, Neville, please," Ginny said, grasping the tops of the chairs for support as she made her way around the table. "Please, just tell Harry."

Neville frowned. "Alright," he said reluctantly.

Ginny stumbled out of the library and down the corridor. "Tom, what are you doing?" she gasped, struggling to regain control of her body.

There was no answer as her feet carried her involuntarily down the stairs and out the front doors of the castle. When she reached the underground dock, she untied one of the boats with shaky hands, trying valiantly to stop what she was doing.

"Tom, it's still light out," she pleaded. "Someone will see. Harry will see. He'll find me."

_"Yes,"_ Tom said finally. _"I'm sure he will."_

As she glided out of the ivy curtain onto the lake, she gulped in breaths of air. "Why are you doing this? Why control me now?"

_"The time has come,"_ Tom said. _"I've let you have your freedom for long enough. You think now that you have Potter's insipid declarations of love, that you no longer need me or what I have to offer you,"_ he hissed, causing a shiver to run up Ginny's spine. _"But now you will see that the choice was never yours in the first place."_

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Ron sat in the common room with his eyes trained on the windows, tapping a quill against his notebook in a constant rhythm.

"Ron, you have got to stop that," Hermione said, running a nervous hand over her forehead. "That tapping is like dripping water. It's driving me mad."

"Where is she?" he said, ignoring Hermione and pacing over to the window, opening it to look out. "She should be here by now."

"Maybe Charlie wasn't able to harvest the blood on such short notice," she said, coming to stand beside him at the window.

"He'll do it," Ron said forcefully. "If he knows it will help Ginny, he'll do it."

At that moment, Harry burst into the common room, hurrying over to them. "Is Hedwig back?" he asked anxiously.

Ron shook his head.

"Damn," Harry cursed. "I left Ginny in the library with Neville because I thought she might have come straight here."

"Harry," Hermione said, pulling him aside and lowering her voice. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?" he asked with impatience.

She bit her lip and twisted her hands together. "This dragon's blood thing… well… it's risky. _If_ we get it and _if_ we can get Ginny to drink it without Tom knowing what's going on, it may be a real shock to her system. I'm worried that even with the dragon's blood, her powers may not be strong enough to overcome him on her own." She put a soft hand on his arm. "I just want you to be prepared. This isn't going to be easy and if it doesn't work, it could do her real harm."

Harry looked her steadfastly in the eye and swallowed hard. "She can do it, Hermione. This has to work, because I…she's..." His voice became strained, and he paused before adding, "She's stronger than you think."

Hermione noted a new spark of emotion behind his words and fixed him with a thoughtful gaze. "Especially when she has _you_ by her side. And she does, now, doesn't she. You've finally wised up."

Harry gave her a small smile. "Yeah, looks like I have."

Hermione's face broke into a wide grin and her eyes became suddenly bright, but Harry was saved from further embarrassment by Ron exclaiming, "She's here!"

They turned and rushed to the window to see Harry's snowy white owl soaring toward them in the twilight with a small package tied to her leg.

"Good girl, Hedwig," Harry breathed, reaching his arm out the window, providing a perch for her to land on. Pulling her inside, he reached for the string to untie the package from her leg, but she nipped at his fingers hard. "Ow!" He snatched his hand away from her. "What was that for?"

Hermione peered more closely at the bird, then suppressed a grin. "It's addressed to Ron," she said.

Hedwig hooted in agreement and held her leg out for Ron, who flushed with surprise and mumbled, "Sorry," to Harry as he untied the string. He unrolled the tightly wrapped scroll of parchment to reveal a small leather bag containing one glass vial of dark, green liquid.

"I don't believe it," Hermione whispered, fingering the vial gently as Ron passed it to her.

"Dragon's blood is _green_?" Harry asked, prompting Hermione to tut at his ignorance as Ron read the parchment.

_Ron,_

_Blimey, who would've thought you'd be the brains of the family? Dragon's blood will definitely enhance the strength of Ginny's powers. I can't believe I didn't think of it. Just remember, the sooner you can give it to her, the better. I've taken this from our strongest Horntail and broken about ten dragon-handler rules in the process. But if it will help her, it's all yours. Keep me posted._

_Charlie_

"Brilliant," Ron smiled, shaking his head in disbelief that his idea had actually worked.

"Come on," Harry said, taking the vial and striding toward the portrait hole.

"Harry!" Hermione called, rushing after him. "You're not going to give this to her in the middle of the _library_ are you?"

"I don't know. Let's just get to her first."

The three reached the library in under a minute and arrived at the table to find Neville silently packing up his books.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked, looking frantically around the room.

"Oh, Harry!" Neville exclaimed. "I was just about to come find you. Ginny went up to the hospital wing. She said she wasn't feeling well, and she looked really pale. I offered to go with her, but she told me to stay here and wait for you."

"She _what_?" Ron snapped as Harry brought his hands to his face.

"Did… did I do something wrong?" Neville asked, crestfallen at the looks on their faces.

"No, Neville," Hermione said quickly. "We're just worried about her is all. Thank you for letting us know," she said and hurried out after Harry and Ron again.

Down the corridors they flew, up the twisting staircases, through a tapestry, and finally to the hospital wing where they banged on the door and tried to catch their breath as Madam Pomfrey bustled across the ward toward them.

"Great heavens, what has gotten into you three?" the matron asked, pushing the door open and letting them stumble inside.

"We're looking for Ginny," Harry panted. "Ginny Weasley."

"Well, I'm afraid she's not here, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey frowned.

"You mean she's already left?" Ron asked, flushed.

"On the contrary, Mr. Weasley. I haven't seen your sister in my ward since she came to me for a headache potion a few days ago. Although by the looks of it, you three may need a Calming Draught before long. Is Miss Weasley in need of assistance?"

"Um, we're not sure," Hermione answered, stalling for time. "But thank you, Madam Pomfrey. We'll let you know if we need anything."

They exited the hospital wing and stopped in the corridor outside, not sure what to do next.

Ron turned to Harry, beginning to panic. "She lied to Neville? Why would she do that?"

Harry shook his head, a feeling of dread settling over him. "I think I know where she's gone."

"You do? Where?" Ron asked.

"Someplace she told me about once."

"Well, let's go," Ron urged.

"No," Harry said. "I think you two should search the castle just to be sure. Hermione," he asked, turning to her, "do you know how to send messages the way the Order does?"

"Yes," she nodded, "with my Patronus. Professor Dumbledore showed me how to do it when I became Head Girl."

"Alright. If you find Ginny first, send me a message and I'll come straight back. Understand?"

She nodded and Harry took off down the stairs clutching the small leather pouch in his hand, his robes flying behind him.

Ron turned to Hermione, bewildered. "You can send messages using a Patronus?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, now come _on_."

"No one ever told _me_ that," he grumbled, following her.

"Don't whinge about it."

"I'm not, it'd just be nice to know these things."

Hermione shook her head and smiled to herself. "Silly git."

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Harry guided his broom along the shore of the lake, flying low near the path that he and Ginny had followed on their walk when she had pointed in the direction of the cave. Passing the point of the turnstile border, he skimmed up above the treeline, searching the grounds below for any sign of life.

The trees were dense and the night black. He flew like a hawk, making several passes up and down the hillside until he spotted, very faintly, a glow in the darkness. It may have been a trick of his eyes, but he gripped his broom handle tighter and descended toward it, not caring what he might find as long as he could bring Ginny back safely.

The glow grew brighter as he set down on the forest floor, rustling leaves as his feet hit the ground. He hadn't paid it much attention, but his scar had been prickling the nearer he came to the cave, and now, as he stood mere feet away from the opening, it deepened into a persistent ache. He reached up and rubbed it just as a male voice came from somewhere inside the cave.

"Ah, he is here at last."

Startled, Harry flattened himself against the rocks. Had he been seen? Ginny had said that Tom could take physical form here, and he knew that they were well outside the wards over the Hogwarts grounds. What was it about this place? Had Tom somehow forced Ginny to put a spell up around it which allowed him to show himself to her?

Breathing heavily, Harry took his wand and muttered a simple revealing spell, but the tip shone green, indicating that there were no external wards protecting the cave. Inching toward the entrance, he held his wand in front of him, ready to fire off a curse at any second, when he was halted by the same voice, now speaking directly to him.

"Harry," it said leeringly. "There's really no use in continuing to skulk about out there. Won't you come in and join us?"

"Harry, no!" he heard Ginny's voice shout before it was abruptly cut off.

"Riddle!" Harry called sharply. "If you hurt her, you'll only hurt yourself, too. It's me you want. I won't let you take her as well."

"That may be true," Tom replied confidently, "but this girl of yours, Harry. She can be so very... useful. I think I will keep her a bit longer. Unless, of course, you intend to take her from me? But I am sure _you _are also aware that if you hurt me, you will only hurt _her_ as well. It seems we are at an impasse," he said with a touch of amusement in his voice.

There was a pause and Harry crept as close as he could to the opening while still remaining in shadow. If he craned his neck, he could just make out the silhouettes of what he presumed was Tom Riddle standing near the far wall with Ginny cowered on the ground behind him. He could hear her crying and his heart wrenched.

"Ginny," he called, "are you okay?"

"Harry!" she sobbed. "I'm trying. I'm trying to hold on, but I can't. He forced me to come here. I didn't want to!"

"Ginny, you've got to stay awake. Do you hear me?" Harry said fervently. "You've got to try and force him out from within yourself. It's the only way, I can't do this for you. Please. Please try." He choked on his words and had to regain his composure. He knew how difficult it was to face Voldemort alone, to feel that hopelessness and fear. But to watch the one he loved trying to do it in his place was a hundred times worse.

"I can't, Harry. I don't know how."

"Yes, you do," he said forcefully, hoping to snap her out of her fear. "You told me so yourself. It's the same power that I have over him, Gin. You have it, too. _We _have it together. I love you, and if that means coming in there and sacrificing myself to keep you safe, then I'll do it."

"No!" she screamed.

"Yes!" Tom crowed in triumph. "Didn't I tell you, Ginny? Love... it is the ultimate weakness! That one would give up themselves, their very life for another! Why, it is the worst kind of cowardice imaginable."

"Ginny, don't listen to him!" Harry yelled. "You've been letting him feed you his hatred and lies all this time, but now you have to push back."

And then, Harry steeled himself to say the words that had to come next. He felt sick at the knowledge that he must say them, but he had to make Ginny understand that love alone wasn't enough to save her from Tom.

It had taken him a long time to fully understand the true meaning of Dumbledore's words, that it was not only his ability to love others, but to love them above his own self that was the true power that Voldemort knew not. If love was all it took, then his mother had died in vain. It was not merely her love, but her willingness to sacrifice herself for him that had made all the difference.

"Ginny," he said, his voice shaking. "Do you love me?" He heard Tom give a derisive snort, but waited anxiously for her answer.

"Yes, Harry, you know I do," she said through her tears.

"Do you love me enough to give up yourself for me?" The tears were now streaming down his own face as well. "Would you... die for me?"

She heaved another sob and Harry saw the shadow of Tom turn and point a wand at her. Although it couldn't have been his own wand, Harry realized. He must have taken Ginny's. "Well, Ginevra, would you?" he asked, his voice full of contempt. "Would you _die _for Harry Potter? Tell me. I would be happy to oblige."

The air became eerily still as they waited for her answer. Harry could hear nothing but the blood rushing through his veins until at last the sound of her hushed whisper reached his ears.

"Yes."

Harry couldn't stand it any longer. He had to be with her, had to see her face and feel her touch so that no matter what happened now, they would be together. Clutching the dragon's blood tightly in one hand and raising his wand with the other, he emerged slowly into the faint light of the cave.

At the sight of him, Ginny let out a strangled cry of relief while Tom hissed with delight. Harry moved steadily around the perimeter of the cave, never taking his eyes off Tom, until he was standing directly in front of Ginny, shielding her from Tom's sight.

"Ginny," he spoke, struggling to keep his voice calm. "You can do this. Your bond with him, your Legilicor bond, it has to be broken and only you can do it."

"I've tried, Harry, I've tried," she said, exhausted. "He's too strong."

"This display is very touching," Tom said coldly, "but my patience with your little game is running thin. Your mudblood mother's sacrifice may have been enough to save you once, Harry, but the crush of a schoolgirl? Come, even you must see how foolish it is to put your life into such feeble hands. It would be much more merciful for me to just kill you and end this charade."

Harry tried to ignore Tom's prattle and stay focused on Ginny, even as he kept his wand fixed on the boy in front of him. "For me, Gin. Do it for me. Focus on what you know in your heart and feed those feelings to him until he's so full of them, he can't bear the weight of it. Here," he said, dangling the leather pouch behind him where she could see it. "Take this, it will help you."

"What is it?" she said in a shaky voice.

"Trust me," he said, turning his head for the briefest second to look at her. "Drink it, it will give you the strength you need to do this."

Tom laughed. "What, another Angelica Potion? You and those high and mighty friends of yours think you'll have better luck the second time around? Well then, Ginny, drink up! And we will show him just how deeply we are bound together."

Ginny felt Tom release his hold on her body and she frantically slid the vial out of the pouch and pulled out the stopper. She already trusted Harry with her life; there was nothing to stop her from trusting him with this as well. She reached up and grasped his free hand in hers, holding it tightly as she tipped the vial up to her lips and downed the thick liquid in one swallow. It tasted bitter and metallic, but she immediately felt a shudder throughout her entire body and the world began to spin away around her.

She did not know that Harry had tightened his grip on her hand when he felt it go limp, nor did she see the panic in his eyes as he crouched on the ground beside her, still trying to keep his wand trained on Riddle. The only thing she knew was that her mind was clearer than it had ever been before. From deep within her trance, she opened her eyes and was surrounded by a light so intense, it blinded, strengthened, and comforted her all at once.

She had seen the light once before, when she had tried to overthrow Tom on the lakeshore. She had grasped at it feebly then, hanging onto it for dear life. But now, it surrounded her like an army of Patronuses, ready to do battle at her command.

Just beyond the circle of light, darkness surrounded her like a wolf circling its prey. She pushed into it, remembering Harry's words, feeling him with her. The darkness growled at her, prowling for an opening in the circle. She could feel its hatred, its greed, but she was not consumed by it. Instead, she waited.

"We have become one," the darkness said. "Even while others would try to force us apart, you still come to me. You know that you cannot truly live without me."

"No," Ginny said in an ethereal voice. "Even with all my protections, I cannot live _with _you. Neither of us can truly live while the other survives," she spoke, echoing the prophecy that had, until now, spoken only of Harry and Lord Voldemort. "I'm sorry, Tom. But I would rather die in Harry's place than to share a cursed life with you."

Ginny spread her arms wide, releasing the light around her, which stampeded into the darkness, trampling it underfoot until there was nothing left.

A scream echoed through the cave. Harry's wand clattered to the floor as he put his arms around Ginny, holding her limp body.

"No," he cried into her hair. "No, Ginny. Please wake up. Please be alright." He looked into her face, but her cheeks had lost their red glow and her lips had begun to turn blue.

Through watery eyes he watched as a slow smile spread across Tom's face. An anger spread through him like fire, and he lowered Ginny gently to the floor before picking up his wand and pointing it once again at Riddle. His mind raced; the dragon's blood hadn't worked, and Ginny was going to die if he didn't do something. He had no choice but to curse Tom himself, and he didn't care about the consequences.

He opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Tom's smile fell and his face contorted in pain. A faint light began to glow from within him, working its way out through his fingers, his chest, his eyes, until it was so bright that it illuminated the cave. Tom cried out in anguish as Harry shielded his eyes, the light temporarily blinding him. And then, just as suddenly, it was gone and the cave was still.

Harry looked instinctively around at Ginny, his eyes adjusting once more to the dark. He crouched beside her and felt her face. It was warm, and he nearly collapsed with relief.

"Ginny, you did it. You did it!" He barked out a laugh. "He's gone, he's..."

It was then that Harry noticed Ginny's hands. The empty vial was clutched in one hand, but in her other was... her wand. The sight of it brought Harry up short. Her wand? Then whose wand had Tom been holding all this time?

"Harry," a raspy voice said from the darkness. "I have to admit I didn't think she had it in her. I've only recently become acquainted with her, you understand, but I can see why my former self found such value in her. She is a _challenge_."

Harry squinted, his breathing becoming heavy, his scar burning in earnest now. He clutched his wand tightly; he knew that voice.

Suddenly, a single light flared in the darkness, illuminating the place where Tom had disappeared moments before. Harry's eyes focused on a bald head with skin so thin, he could see the veins pulsing underneath, and snakelike features spreading into a wide, serpentine grin. Tom Riddle had gone, but in his place stood...

"Voldemort." Harry whispered the name with contempt.

"That's _Lord _Voldemort to you," the Dark Lord hissed angrily. He was hunched over slightly as if he had received a terrible blow, but little by little, he straightened until he was at his full, formidable height. He glared ominously at Harry. "Dumbledore _still _hasn't taught you any manners I see."

"So it was you?" Harry said, rising shakily to his feet. "You were behind this the whole time?"

Voldemort gave a raspy laugh. "Why, no! In fact, if it hadn't been for you, I might not have been alerted to the renewed presence of my former self at all. I really must thank you, Harry." He made a little bow of the sort that he liked to taunt Harry with, holding his wand outstretched in mock deference. "Not only have you introduced me to this charming girl, but now I will have the pleasure of watching you _both _die. Together. How tragically romantic."

He pointed his wand sharply at Harry and said, "_Crucio!_" Harry sank to his knees as his insides writhed, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the Unforgivable Curse ripped through him. But it was released after only a moment and he fought through the pain to stand again. He would not allow Voldemort to render him helpless.

"What do you mean _me_? Where've you been, you snake?" Harry ground out through clenched teeth. "Off killing helpless Muggle-borns, too afraid to come after me while Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts?" The Dark Lord seethed and pointed his wand again at Harry, but he plowed on. "I even called out to you to come and find me, to end this once and for all, but you did nothing!"

"Yes, so you did!" Voldemort paused and pretended to consider this. "Imagine my surprise to realize that after months of not being able to penetrate that thick head of yours, suddenly there you were, granting me an open invitation! I slithered around in your mind on a few occasions. All without your knowledge of course," he added off-handedly, for there was never any question that his powers were superior to Harry's in every way.

"And then," he continued, "oh yes, I remember it so well. You were dreaming, and as we both know, _your_ mind is an open book when you sleep." He paused, taking great pleasure in the look on Harry's face as he frantically tried to recall which dream Voldemort was referring to.

"You haven't seen into my dreams since I was fifteen. I made that mistake once, but I would know if you had done it again."

"Would you?" Voldemort asked, feigning surprise. "Yes, I suppose you might after all. But _she _wouldn't." He pointed his wand now at Ginny's still form on the floor. "At first I thought, perhaps, just another of your mundane teenage fantasies. I watched your dream as you followed this girl across a lake, trying desperately to save her, as you are wont to do," he said mockingly. "But then, there was something else. Something that felt oddly...familiar. And do you know what it was, Harry? Do you? It was myself!"

The force of Voldemort's statement hit Harry like a leaden weight as the sinister wizard nearly laughed at the irony of it. The darkness that had overtaken them in his dream, that had prevented him from reaching Ginny, it had been Voldemort!

The Dark Lord spoke faster now, eager to tell his story. "A younger, lesser version of myself, of course, one I had not seen in many years. I was aware that my diary fallen into the hands of Ginny Weasley some years ago by way of Wormtail. He is always so eager to share information with me, you see. But Lucius told me the book had been destroyed. By _you _no less, for which he paid dearly, I can assure you. But I should have known that my spirit would never have left the girl so easily.

"Well, of course, once I and my former self were reunited in your dream, I was able to use our shared power over your little friend to great advantage. I began establishing my own connection with the young Tom Riddle, finally persuading him to lure her out here where we could meet, face to face. And what greater conquest could there be not only to conquer the thorn in my side, but to obtain the loyalty of the daughter of Arthur Weasley and soulmate of Harry Potter in the process? Really, Harry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Surely even you can see the allure of having someone so beautiful and yet so impressionable at your side."

Harry felt like he would vomit at the thought of Voldemort using Ginny to get to him again.

"Why lure her out here? Why not come to the castle yourself?" Harry taunted.

"Dumbledore may have kept me from coming onto Hogwarts' grounds with his reinforced wards, but that hardly left me without options. So, I found a place where I could Apparate to: a cave just beyond the border but still well within reach for a resourceful girl and a small boat. It's quite ingenious, don't you think?" he asked, looking around at the dank, earthen room.

Harry had heard enough. The moment he'd been waiting for for seven years had finally come, and he would not let it go on one moment longer. He raised his wand with a fire in his eyes, but the Dark Lord sent him flying into the wall with a mere flick of his wrist. He landed in a heap on the ground, clutching his side.

"First things first, Harry," Voldemort said calmly, pointing his wand at Ginny. Harry scrambled to her side intending to throw himself over her, but Voldemort merely said, "_Ennervate_," and Ginny opened her eyes, gasping for breath. "I prefer my prey to be conscious. After all, the kill is the most exciting part of the hunt."

"Ginny!" was all that Harry managed to get out as he flung himself over her. A jet of green light split the air. Ginny screamed. And everything went black.


	24. Draco's Confession

_A/N: Well, it's time to wrap up all those loose ends. Only one more chapter and an Epilogue after this (which will be posted together next week). You've all been great, thank you so much for your comments and encouragement. And for reading!_

Chapter 24 - Draco's Confession

Harry's eyes blinked open. A smoky darkness surrounded him and an acrid smell was in the air. He coughed and a searing pain shot through him.

"Harry?" a voice said.

He groaned and rolled over, clutching his side. A hand reached out and touched him, and he felt Ginny's fingers close over his.

"Harry?" she asked again. "Are you alright?"

"What happened?" he said, clutching her hand as he tried to sit up. "Are you hurt, are you okay?"

"Yes, I… I think so. Oh, Harry, I thought… I thought you were…" Ginny began to sob and Harry dragged himself towards her, pulling her into his arms.

"I'll be alright," he said as she clung to him. "It was Voldemort all along. He knew about Tom, he knew about us…" Harry squinted his eyes in the darkness, half expecting to see Voldemort standing there ready to curse them again. But there was nothing.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Ginny cried. "I never meant for you to sacrifice yourself for me."

Harry closed his eyes, knowing that no amount of sacrifice was too much if it meant that she was safe. "I told you I would, didn't I?" he whispered. "And you said the same."

"Yes," she said, sniffling, "but let's not ever do it again."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on her hair as he looked through the thick air. As his eyes adjusted, he finally saw the image of a corpse lying several feet away, thin wisps of smoke still rising from it. He felt around on the ground for his wand, picking it up and pointing it at the body as he disentangled himself from Ginny.

"Where are you going?" she asked anxiously.

"I have to know," Harry said, crawling toward Voldemort with his wand at the ready. "I want to know if he's really dead."

Ginny huddled against the wall, her heart pounding. "The killing curse rebounded and hit him right in the chest. I watched it, Harry. There was a horrible sound, he was screeching like an animal. And then he fell."

Harry covered his nose against the smell as he looked into the hollow face of Lord Voldemort, lying prone on the ground. His skin had already begun to sink in around his bones and his fang-like teeth were exposed in an almost maniacal grin.

Ginny crawled up alongside him and shuddered as she looked on the body. "You saved me," she whispered. "Your gave yourself up for me."

"No. My mother was willing to sacrifice herself for me, too, but she died," Harry said, a sadness welling up in his throat. "I think we saved each other. Because you gave up yourself for me, too." He looked into her dirty, bloody, tear-stained face and felt like his heart would burst. He couldn't believe how much he loved this girl.

"I'm going to send for Dumbledore," he said, raising his wand.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny breathed. "It's over. I can't believe it's over."

Harry reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. "It's over," he echoed, and her touch was all he needed to conjure up his happiest memory.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he spoke, and his Patronus, a brilliant white stag, burst out of his wand and galloped around the cave, illuminating them and the body. "Bring Dumbledore," he said to it. "Tell him Voldemort's dead."

As the stag galloped away to deliver the message, Harry felt the adrenaline drain out of him and he slumped over. Ginny caught him and laid his head on her lap.

"Harry?" she said nervously.

"It's alright, I'm still here," he said, squeezing her arm as it circled his chest. "You were brilliant, you know," he whispered. "I knew you could do it."

"I couldn't have done it without that potion you gave me," she said. "What was that anyway, it tasted awful!"

"It wasn't a potion. It was Ron's idea actually. He found a book that talked about using Legilicor powers to sever soul connections, then he remembered that dragon's blood can give a person extra inner-strength. He put two and two together and owled Charlie in Romania. Hedwig had just come back with it when I came to find you."

Ginny looked at him with wide eyes. "You made me drink _dragon's blood_?"

"Well, you have to admit, it did have rather spectacular results," Harry said. He fell into a fit of coughing and then moaned pitifully.

"Alright," Ginny said firmly. "No more sacrifices and no more drinking blood!"

Harry smiled weakly. "Deal."

Ginny hugged him to her, whispering soothing words to him until a rustling sound caught their attention and Albus Dumbledore rushed into the cave, followed closely by Professor Snape and, to Harry and Ginny's surprise, Draco Malfoy.

"Harry, Ginny, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, more concerned with them for the moment than with the fallen body beside them.

"Harry needs help," Ginny said.

"You both need help by the looks of it," Dumbledore said, taking in Ginny's appearance as well. He knelt down and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, who turned to him with weary eyes. "You've waited a long time for this. We all have. The gratitude of the wizarding world will be yours for years to come. It seems that Lord Voldemort has underestimated you for the last time," he said, casting a morose glance at the body of his former student turned Dark Lord.

"It wasn't just me. Ginny fought her share of the battle as well," Harry said.

"Yes, I can see that she did," Dumbledore said kindly, "and I will be most interested to hear both of your accounts of what happened once you have recovered. I am sorry that you felt I was less than forthcoming with you at times, Harry, but I never lost faith that you would find the answer within yourself when the time came," he said, casting a soft smile in Ginny's direction, and Harry thought his twinkling eyes seemed unusually bright.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said humbly, a lump rising in his own throat as well.

"But now," the headmaster continued, "Madam Pomfrey is awaiting your arrival. There's nothing more for you to do here. Go and have some rest."

Professor Snape knelt over the body of the Dark Lord, his face a mixture of shock and fear. "We haven't much time, Albus," Snape cut in. "He is indeed dead, and the Mark will begin to fade very quickly now. The Death Eaters will be alerted if we do not strike soon."

"Yes, you are right, Severus," Dumbledore said. "But I must see Harry and Ginny to the castle first. There is no need for them to endure more than they already have. I will be quick and when I return, we will go ahead with our plan."

"Professor," Harry asked in a low voice as the headmaster and Ginny helped him to stand. "Why is Malfoy here? What plan?"

"Later, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I will explain everything once you are recovered. Mr. Malfoy is here under my protection, and that is all you need to know for now."

Harry reluctantly accepted this and looked past Voldemort's body to where Draco stood in the shadows.

"Well done, Potter," Malfoy said, stepping forward, his face impassive.

Harry stared at his old adversary and gave a quick nod, feeling that he still only knew half the story.

Once the three had left the cave, Draco turned to address Professor Snape. "Sir," he said gravely, "I'd like to be the one to do it."

Snape looked at him in surprise. "Are you certain, Draco? It is quite painful."

"The Dark Lord has destroyed my family and driven the pureblood wizards almost to extinction," Draco said, raising his chin in defiance. "There is no other way to restore honor to our world than to rid it of him and his followers once and for all. You taught me that. I'm ready."

Snape nodded proudly at the young man that he and Dumbledore had taken under their wing in the hopes of teaching him the true meaning of honor and wizarding pride. It had not been easy to convince the young man that his father had made the wrong choice in following Voldemort. But in time he had come to accept that the wizarding world could not survive under Voldemort's reign and that their best chance of bringing their world back to its full glory lay in helping Harry Potter fulfill his destiny, regardless of their personal feelings toward him. Dumbledore had offered him the position of Head Boy in return for his loyalty and Draco had seized at the opportunity, knowing that that at least would have made his father proud.

Snape nodded. "Very well. We will wait to see what the headmaster says, but I believe you have earned the right to make your own decisions concerning this matter."

They waited, looking uncomfortably at the corpse of their supposed master.

"Do you think he ever could have been truly great?" Draco asked.

Severus was quiet for a moment before answering in a low voice, "No."

Professor Dumbledore strode back into the cave, having made sure that Harry and Ginny were safely delivered to the hospital wing. "Quickly, Severus," he said. "We must act now."

Snape picked up the fallen wand at Voldemort's side and looked to Draco, who stepped forward and rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark that had been burnt into his forearm by Voldemort himself just a few months before.

"Draco has said that he would like for the summons to come from him, and I have agreed," said Snape, poising the Dark Lord's wand over the boy's arm. "With your permission, of course," he added, waiting for Dumbledore.

The headmaster met Draco's eyes with an inscrutable look and watched for any sign of faltering in the boy, but he saw none.

"Very well," he said. "He may do as he wishes."

Snape touched the Dark Lord's wand to Draco's Mark, causing it to writhe on his skin. Draco gritted his teeth against the pain, which was so strong that it nearly drove him to his knees. He clenched his hand and his arm shook. But having endured the Cruciatus Curse at the hands of the Dark Lord at his initiation as a Death Eater, this paled in comparison.

One by one, the dark-hooded figures of the remaining Death Eaters, those who were not already rotting in Azkaban, appeared in the cave, ready to do their master's bidding. But as each one materialized, Dumbledore was ready with a powerful Binding Spell and Anti-Apparition Jinx, plucking the wands from their petrified hands and snapping each one over his knee, rendering them helpless.

Only Bellatrix Lestrange was quick enough to deflect the spells that were thrust at her, but Severus anticipated her and matched her dark spells with the speed and accuracy of a trained Death Eater. Working together against her, he and Dumbledore escaped with only minor burns from her counter-hexes. Upon recognizing her captors, Bellatrix swore revenge on Draco, her only nephew, but even she was unable to maintain her ferocious facade once she realized that the master she had served faithfully for so long had been destroyed once and for all.

Draco faltered only slightly at the sight of the Death Eaters being gagged and bound, some of whom had mingled with his parents in his home and had struck awe and fear in him ever since he could remember. But now as they were led away to Azkaban, he saw the lines of hatred and greed etched into their faces and knew he had done the right thing.

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Ron and Hermione pushed open the doors of the hospital wing, having just spent the better part of an hour listening to Harry and Ginny's gruesome tale of what had happened in the cave and speculation about "the plan" that Dumbledore had referred to. When they had come to the part about the dragon's blood, Ginny had thrown her arms around her brother and thanked him for his brilliance, which made Hermione smile proudly in his direction and caused Ron to turn deep shades of red until Madam Pomfrey had finally shooed them away for the night.

"Ron," Hermione said as they emerged into the corridor, the doors swinging shut behind them.

"What?" he asked, still grinning. The battle was over, and even though his best friend and his sister had nearly died in the process, he felt elated at the weight that had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

Hermione stopped and looked at him warmly. "I'm so proud of you."

His grin faded and he became embarrassed once more. "Well, really it was Harry and Ginny. They did all the work," he stammered.

"No," she said, taking a step closer. "You're not going to sell yourself short on this one. You were committed to finding an answer for Ginny even when I had given up, even when I said it wouldn't work. You took an enormous risk and it paid off and I'm just... so... _proud_ of you."

And then he saw it, the way her face lit up. It was the same way it always lit up when she had puzzled out some problem or when he finally understood something she'd been trying to teach him for hours. And he wondered sadly if her face would have lit up like that even if he hadn't been the one to find the solution, to take the chance.

"Thanks, Hermione." He smiled and let her thread her arm through his as they walked back to the common room, enjoying the feeling of being close to her again, if only for a little while.

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Once news of Voldemort's defeat and the subsequent capture of the Death Eaters reached the wizarding world, celebrations broke out all across the country. The students of Hogwarts were no exception, and as soon as Harry and Ginny were released from the hospital, Gryffindor tower erupted into an all-night party that rivaled any thrown during Fred and George's day.

In the wee hours of the morning as things were winding down, Harry took Ginny's hand and beckoned to Ron and Hermione. They followed him sleepily out of the common room, past a very grumpy Fat Lady, and around the corner to the Gryffindor Storage Room.

"Hey, what's this place?" Ron asked, waking up a bit at the new surroundings. "You never told me about this!"

"Ginny found it," Harry said, sliding his arms around Ginny's waist and pulling her closer. "It's a great place to come and…"

"Never mind," Ron interrupted, looking horrified.

"…talk," Harry finished, winking at Ginny as she stifled a laugh.

Ron rolled his eyes and flopped down onto one of the couches, causing a small cloud of dust to leap up around him. "What did you drag us in here for anyway? I'm knackered," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Dumbledore came to see me and Ginny while we were in the hospital wing after you left," Harry said, sitting on a rickety chair and pulling Ginny down on his lap while Hermione perched on the arm of Ron's couch. "Thought you'd like to know what he told us about Draco Malfoy."

Ron cocked an eyebrow and sat up slightly. "Yeah? What about him?"

"He's a Death Eater," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Or was, anyway."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Bloody hell. Well, of course he is. We all knew he would be eventually, didn't we. Didn't reckon Voldemort would take him while he was still in school though," he said with a touch of surprise in his voice. "And _you_ said he wasn't up to anything," he said, turning to Hermione and casting a triumphant look at her.

"No, wait Ron," Hermione said, holding up her hand to silence him. She had a funny feeling in her stomach. "If Malfoy was a Death Eater, why was he helping Dumbledore and Snape in the cave?"

"Well," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "As much as I hate to admit it, it looks like he was on our side."

"What, a spy? You mean like Snape?" Ron asked, incredulous. "No way. Malfoy could never have pulled that off."

Harry shrugged. "Apparently he did."

"And that's not all," Ginny added. "Dumbledore said it was Malfoy who called all the Death Eaters to the cave so they could be captured. They used his Dark Mark to summon them."

Ron snorted in disbelief again and the three of them continued to speculate on how someone like Malfoy could have played the part of a double agent so effectively. But Hermione, rather than joining in, stayed silent, her mind racing back and forth to put together the pieces of the puzzle, and it began to dawn on her that she had heard at least part of this story before, that it lay buried somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

"Harry," she said suddenly. "Did you actually see the Dark Mark on him? Was it burned into his arm, just like the others?"

"No, I didn't see it. Dumbledore made us leave the cave before I got the chance," Harry admitted. "But, Hermione, there's no doubt that he has it. Dumbledore told us so."

Hermione bit her lip and frowned as the others went on talking, the pauses between words becoming longer and longer until at last, they made their way back to the tower for a few hours of sleep. But Hermione tossed and turned as the grey dawn began to creep through her dormitory window. She was anxious for the day to begin, and the first thing she was going to do was find Draco Malfoy.

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The seventh year Slytherins made their way slowly through the dungeon corridors toward the Great Hall for breakfast. Their house's reaction to the news of Voldemort's defeat had been mixed. There had been no celebration in the Slytherin common room, but rather groups of students clumped together, talking in excited whispers. Many of the Slytherins would not have admitted it out loud, but were secretly glad that they would not have to follow in their parents' footsteps or pretend that a world under Voldemort was better than a world without him. Outwardly, they held their heads high and proud, and their hearts still burned with the ambition to be the best that the wizarding world had to offer.

Draco quickened his step, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to fall behind him as he and Pansy made their way up the stairs. Even though he had not admitted to them his part in putting the Death Eaters away in Azkaban, he had kept a safe distance from his old friends. He supposed he might as well get used to it. When they eventually found out what he had done, and he knew they would, it would be a long time before they would forgive him. To some of the Slytherins, the Death Eaters had not only been followers of the Dark Lord; they had been their fathers and uncles and trusted friends. Not that he needed their forgiveness. Crabbe and Goyle had always been loyal henchmen, but never true allies. Pansy was more of an ally to him now than they were and she had proven useful in her own way, though he wasn't sure that her ambitions had ever reached much farther than the wealth or position that the Malfoy name could provide for her.

Draco frowned inwardly. He felt hemmed in these days, like he didn't belong anymore. Perhaps he would go away for a while after leaving Hogwarts, travel to other wizarding countries and try to put all of this behind him.

As they emerged into the Entrance Hall, Draco's head jerked up as he saw a flash of red and gold rushing toward him. Hermione Granger had stopped just in front of him with a fiery look in her eye, and he felt Pansy bristle beside him.

"Granger," he said coolly. "Do you mind? We're just on our way to breakfast. I'm sure whatever crisis you have for me can wait."

"I don't think so," Hermione said evenly. "I think we need to talk right now. And I _don't_ think you want to have this conversation in the middle of the Entrance Hall." Draco noted the subtle rise in her eyebrow and realized that this was not about some mundane school business. She knew something. Something that might be very incriminating to him indeed.

Pansy rolled her eyes at their standoff and said, "You might as well go with her Draco. You know she won't give you a moment's peace until you do. But do hurry," she called over her shoulder as she strode toward the Great Hall. "You know how grumpy you get when you miss breakfast."

Draco thought he detected a smirk on Hermione's face before she turned and strode away toward the corridor of empty classrooms on the other side of the marble staircase. He waited a moment, so as not to appear that he was obediently trotting after her, before making his way across the hall and into the classroom where she was waiting.

With a sharp wave of her wand, Hermione locked the door and cast a silencing spell over the room so they would not be heard from the outside. But her anger was quickly matched by Draco's rising annoyance with her.

"Right," he began snappishly. "Obviously you think you know something, or you've heard something, and you're just dying to tell me exactly what you think, so out with it. But I'm warning you, Granger, this had better be good, because the next time you ambush me in front of my entire house, not to mention the rest of the school, I'll hex you until there's nothing left to hex, do you understand?"

"Oh, I heard something alright," Hermione seethed in a barely controlled voice. "I heard all about your Dark Mark and what happened in the cave and that you've been working with Snape and Dumbledore all along. But that's not why I'm angry, Malfoy. No, if that was all you'd done I'd hardly have any reason to be angry. You rounded up the Death Eaters! You put them all in Azkaban! I would be _thanking_ you, wouldn't I?" She let out a kind of hysterical laugh as she advanced on Draco, her wand suddenly pointed at his chest. "But that wasn't enough for you. Oh, no. You couldn't trust me. Couldn't let me in on your secret even after I asked you point blank..."

"Granger, _what_ are you on about? And stop pointing that at me!" Draco caught her wand arm and jerked it sharply away from him.

"You _Obliviated_ me." Hermione yanked her arm away from him and stood, breathing heavily, as the look of comprehension slowly dawned over his face. His shoulders relaxed and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, apparently I didn't do a very good job of it," he said casually.

"You're not even going to deny it?" Hermione snapped.

He shrugged. "Why should I? There's no reason to keep my Dark Mark a secret now." He rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his forearm to her and saw her recoil slightly. The mark had already begun to fade, but it was still visibly etched into his skin. "That's really what this is about, isn't it. You wanted to prove that I was as evil as you always suspected. You had to see it for yourself. Well, here it is. Go on. Have a good look."

Hermione remained where she was but could not take her eyes off the grotesque green mark just above Draco's fisted hand.

"You didn't have to lie," she said, her voice crackling with indignance and fear. "I already suspected you had the Mark. If you had told me you were working with Dumbledore, I would have understood. Maybe I could have even helped you. You didn't have to Obliviate me. You could have done me permanent damage!"

Draco scoffed and shook his head. "You give yourself too much credit. I saw the way you looked at me. You were revolted. You were terrified. If I'd have let you out of that room, you'd have run straight to Potter and Weasley and spilled everything. Besides, it's not like I've never done a memory charm before; it wasn't meant to be permanent. I just needed to shut you up." He watched her as his words sunk in, and her silence confirmed that what he said was true. "You're always so ready to believe the worst about me," he sneered.

Hermione met his eyes with a steady gaze. "You've never given me any reason _not_ to believe the worst about you."

"Well, believe what you want. I didn't join up with Dumbledore for you, and I certainly didn't do it to join the Potter fan club."

"Yes, you said that, didn't you," Hermione said, remembering. "Just before you Obliviated me, we were fighting. You said that it wasn't about Harry, even though you must have known that by joining Dumbledore, you'd have to support Harry is some way." Her fear was slowly ebbing away, and a curiosity to unravel this mystery that was Draco Malfoy made her press on. "So, why did you do it? What could you possibly have to gain by turning your back on everything you've stood for your whole life?"

"Those were things my father stood for, and I was following in his footsteps like a good son should. But he got himself thrown into Azkaban, didn't he. It was Snape who finally made me see what the Dark Lord truly was, a power-hungry psychopath who wouldn't stop until the wizarding world was completely decimated. He was never going to give my father the power or rewards he deserved, or Aunt Bellatrix, or any of them for that matter. Make no mistake, Granger. I still think that letting mudbloods into the wizarding world is a bad idea, regardless of how talented some of them might be." He paused and Hermione pursed her lips at the backhanded compliment he had begrudgingly given her. "But mass genocide isn't the answer. There has to be a better way.

"So, when Dumbledore offered to make me Head Boy in exchange for working with him and Professor Snape to infiltrate the Dark Lord's inner circle, I took it. If I hadn't, the Dark Lord would have come after me anyway. He was already spreading the work that he wanted me to replace my father as a Death Eater. It was either go along with the plan or…"

"Or he would have killed you," Hermione finished.

Draco nodded. "Or someone close to me."

"Your mother…" Hermione gasped. "Was that why the Death Eaters raided your house? What were they looking for?"

Draco leaned against one of the desks and took a deep breath. "I think it was mostly to send a message to me, about how vulnerable my mother was now that my father is gone. They pushed her around a bit and demanded that she give them Tom Riddle's old diary. My father had not dared to give it back to the Dark Lord after failing so miserably. I assume you know what I'm referring to?"

Hermione nodded. "But why the diary? It has no power anymore. Harry destroyed it in the Chamber of Secrets."

"My mother thought the same thing. But the Dark Lord wanted to see it for himself. He discovered that all of Riddle's correspondence with Ginny Weasley was gone, but still, it proved that Ginny was an effective way to get to Potter. It had almost worked for Riddle after all. That's where I came in.

"The Dark Lord contacted me and gave me orders to follow Ginny, seeing how I had easy access to her here at Hogwarts. He didn't want Snape to know about his plans; I think he was starting to suspect that Snape wasn't completely trustworthy and was using this as a way to test my loyalty. So, while you and Potter and Weasley were busy with whatever it is you three do," he said with barely concealed disdain, "I began watching Ginny. I even followed her on some of her nightly trips to the boat dock and it became clear to me not long after that she was being possessed. I reported what I'd found back to the Dark Lord and eventually, he was able to connect with her himself. But I suppose you know the rest of that story."

Hermione's anger flared up again. "You _knew_ that she was being possessed and you just went on letting her be preyed on by Voldemort? You didn't even tell Snape or Dumbledore? She could have been killed!"

"I've just told you," Draco said impatiently. "The Dark Lord was testing me. I had to maintain his trust if we had any hope of learning his true plans. I didn't see _you_ rushing to tell anyone when you finally figured out what was wrong with her."

Hermione frowned. "She didn't want anyone to know. We tried to help her the best that we could. It was just lucky that Harry found her in the cave when he did."

Draco snorted. "Sometimes I wonder if 'bravery' isn't just another word for 'stupidity' with you Gryffindors." Hermione bristled, but he went on. "Just before Christmas, the Dark Lord told Snape he wanted me go through the Death Eater initiation and receive the Mark. I had little choice but to pretend that I was honored by the invitation, and Dumbledore agreed."

"Was it… very painful?" she asked.

"Of course it was," he said.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, beginning to understand the magnitude of the risks he had taken upon himself to do what he thought was right. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Draco stared at her impassively for a moment. "I've learned that it's advantageous to keep my friends close, and my enemies closer."

"Which am I?" she asked shrewdly.

His lips tightened into a small smile. "Neither." He contemplated her for a moment longer before straightening up and making his way to the door.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked again, and he turned. "You haven't… done any other memory charms on me… have you?"

He smirked and released the locking spell on the door, opening it to reveal a stream of students making their way to morning classes.

"Brilliant," he grumbled. "Now I've missed breakfast."

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Ron pushed the hair out of his eyes as he tried to concentrate on his Transfiguration textbook. With the threat of Tom Riddle and Voldemort behind them, the trio had been reminded that N.E.W.T. exams were rapidly approaching, and they urgently spent every available moment revising for the end of term.

In his quieter moments, Ron had been able to reflect that it was comforting to have mundane problems, like how badly he was going to fail his Transfiguration N.E.W.T., rather than the monumental life and death sort he had become accustomed to. Though he privately thought Harry was having a harder time accepting that he was allowed to be a normal bloke now. He had been the hero-in-waiting for so long, it seemed he hardly knew how to live without the looming dark cloud that had followed him for so many years.

Ginny was good for Harry, Ron thought. She had finally got what she wanted and now she was bound and determined to make sure Harry had all the happiness he had missed in his life. As Ron watched them both sitting on the couch opposite him, Ginny playing absently with Harry's hair as he lay reading with his head on her lap, he wished that he could find a girl who would do that for him, too. Someone who would just enjoy being with him the way Ginny was with Harry. But his sister's love life was less important to him at the moment than the annoying red fringe that kept falling in his eyes. He had read the same paragraph three times now and was becoming more agitated by the second. Finally, he snapped the book shut in disgust, causing Harry and Ginny to look up.

"This is useless," he growled, running his fingers through his hair again.

"Well, maybe I can help you," Harry offered. "I think I understand what McGonagall was saying now about transfiguring humans. If you just…"

"I need a haircut," Ron interrupted. "Ginny, can you cut it?"

They both raised their eyebrows at his abruptness, and Ginny scoffed. "Are you mad? I'm not cutting_ that_," she said, pointing at his red mane.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, do you know anyone who_ can_?"

"No," she said tersely, turning back to her book and ignoring him.

"Ginny…" he whined.

Ginny exhaled loudly. "I'll go see if anyone's upstairs," she groaned. She trotted out of the room while Harry returned to his book – studiously avoiding eye contact with Ron and any ensuing discussion that might arise about hair – and came back down half a minute later.

"Maura can do it. She'll meet you in your room in five minutes."

"Great," Ron said, gathering his books hastily and disappearing up the stairs.

"You're welcome," she called, and Harry sniggered. "Honestly," she said under her breath. "I never knew haircuts were such a life and death situation."

Harry tried not to smile. "Ron Weasley and the Haircut of Doom," he said to himself.

Ginny snorted. "Ron Weasley and the Great Ginger-Haired Monster," she muttered.

"The Tragic Saga of Ron Weasley's Hair," Harry volleyed back, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

They went back and forth until the laughter overtook them and tears threatened to stream out of their eyes until Maura appeared at the bottom of the girls' stairs, wand and towel in hand. She raised her eyebrows at them, and they held their breath until she passed up the boys' stairs, then collapsed onto each other in a fit of giggles.

Maura knocked softly on the seventh year boys' door and was startled when Ron opened it forcefully.

"Oh, hi," he said, somewhat apologetically. "Thanks for coming up."

"Sure," she said, entering the room and looking around surreptitiously. She had only been up the boys' side of the tower once before, but never to_ Harry Potter's_ room. A thrill of excitement went through her as she looked around at the five unkempt beds and clothing scattered here and there.

Ron pulled his desk chair into the middle of the room. "This alright?" he asked. Maura nodded and he sat down, shaking the hair out of his eyes and running his hand through it self-consciously.

"So, you need a haircut?" Maura asked, trying to make conversation. "Ginny made it sound urgent."

Ron glanced at her. "No, it's just that I was trying to revise for Transfiguration and it keeps getting in my eyes."

"Did you just want a trim, then?" she asked as she moved around behind him, lifting the hair off his collar and draping a towel around his shoulders.

"No, I need something different. I want to… change it. I need a change."

"Oh," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

Ron swallowed, becoming very aware of how good her fingers felt, and how closely she was standing to him. "You have done this before, haven't you?" he asked.

Maura smiled. "Yes, I have two younger brothers; I do theirs all the time. I've done Ginny's, too."

"Oh. Well, good."

"So, really short then?"

Ron shrugged.

"I liked the way you had it last year," she offered. "That was pretty short. How about that?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded, "that sounds good."

Maura took her wand and went to work, and soon the floor was covered with tufts of red hair. As she moved around to the front to tackle his fringe, he felt his cheeks flush and tried to look anywhere but at her shapely chest, which was now directly in his line of sight and inching closer to his face as she leaned over him. He finally shut his eyes tight and kept them closed until she said, "There," with a note of finality, and when his eyes eased open again, he found himself looking into her smiling face, with its lightly freckled nose and warm brown eyes.

"That's better, isn't it?" she said, removing the towel from his shoulders and shaking it.

Ron reached up and felt the back of his head, his hair clipped short against his neck. He stood up to look into the mirror above his chest of drawers and smiled at his reflection. He felt like a new man. "That looks good, yeah."

"That'll be ten sickles then," Maura said as she cleaned the hair off the floor with a wave of her wand.

"What?" Ron asked. "Oh, right." He hadn't thought to ask what she charged for a haircut and hoped he had enough to pay her. Rummaging through his trunk for his money pouch, he counted his silver and came up short. "Er… Sorry, I've only got eight."

"Oh, that's alright," she said, holding out her hand. "You can owe me the rest." He dropped the money into her palm and felt a jolt as his fingers brushed against her skin.

"Well," he said, flustered. "Thanks. I know it was short notice and everything."

She smiled again, and he wondered why he had never noticed how pretty she was before. "No problem. So, I'll see you around, I guess," she said, and Ron noticed that she seemed to be a little flustered herself.

He nodded and she opened the door, promptly bumping into Harry as he came into the room.

"Oh!" Maura exclaimed. "Sorry, Harry. I was just leaving. Bye, Ron," she said hastily and hurried out of the room.

"See you," Ron called.

Harry chuckled at the sheepish expression on Ron's face. "Alright there, Ron?" he asked, tossing his books onto his bed.

"Yeah." Ron cleared his throat. "She's good. At cutting hair, I mean." He turned to the mirror once more and fussed about with his short fringe.

"Cute, too," Harry said, smirking.

"Is she? I hadn't noticed."

"No," Harry smiled. "Of course you didn't."


	25. Moving On & Epilogue

Chapter 25 - Moving On

The Great Hall was abuzz as Hermione walked in for breakfast on the last day of N.E.W.T. exams. She had only two left: Transfiguration with Harry and Ron, and Ancient Runes, which she had been revising for alone in the library late into the night. The seventh years among the crowd were easy to pick out, as were the fifth years who were finishing up their O.W.L. exams; they had a harried, somewhat panicked look about them that betrayed their lack of sleep and inability to speak of anything but Charms Theories and Goblin Rebellions.

Scanning the Gryffindor table, she found Harry's messy head bent over his plate and made her way toward him. Taking the seat next to him, she opened her mouth to ask if he had any questions on his Transfiguration notes when she was stopped mid-sentence by the image of a shockingly different Ron Weasley sitting across from them.

"Right," Ron was saying to Harry with a tired sigh. "The three Ministry-approved methods of animal transformation are for household service, transportation, and... _what_, Hermione?" Ron asked, finally acknowledging her stare.

"You've cut your hair," she said, bewildered.

Ron sat up and began fidgeting with his breakfast. "Well, not me actually, but yeah. I did."

Hermione looked at him as though she couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or sad. "I liked it long," she said almost wistfully.

Ron glanced up at Harry, then back down to his bowl of cereal. "I know," he said, taking a bite of crunchy flakes and avoiding her gaze.

Frowning, Hermione changed the subject. "Where's Ginny?"

"Having a lie-in," Harry said, not looking up from his notes. "Sixth year classes are already finished."

A fluttering sound in the air announced the arrival of the owl post and the students looked up from their books and notes briefly before burying their noses again. A white owl with flecks of grey in its wings landed neatly in front of Hermione and held out its leg on which an envelope bearing an unfamiliar seal was attached. Ron and Harry watched, then exchanged curious looks as Hermione's face broke into an expression of excited surprise. She hastily opened the letter and scanned the contents, her face lighting up in an even wider smile as she covered her mouth in disbelief.

"What's that, then?" Ron asked, abandoning his notes for the moment.

"It's...oh my stars, with everything that's been happening and not hearing for so long, I thought for sure..." Hermione stumbled in delight.

"Well, thanks for clearing that up," Ron snorted.

"Here," Harry said, holding out his hand. "May I see it?"

Hermione handed over the parchment and fairly beamed. "It's a graduate studies program that I had applied for last term. Professor McGonagall suggested that I might be a good candidate for it if I wanted to continue learning more advanced magic after leaving Hogwarts… provided that my marks were high enough, of course."

Ron made an effort not to roll his eyes. "Yes, no telling how good your marks might be. They might only reach Outstanding instead of Bloody Spectacular. But I've never heard of a school of advanced magic in Britain. Where is it anyway?"

Harry, who had finished reading the letter, looked at Hermione in surprise. "You're going to _Switzerland_?"

Her mouth hung open for a moment before she replied breathlessly, "I suppose I am."

"But it says here you're to report for new student orientation on 21st July. That's only a month away," Harry said, sounding wounded.

"You're moving to another country and you never even _told_ us?" Ron asked.

As she looked on the shocked faces of her two best friends, Hermione's demeanor faltered for the first time since the post owl had landed, and she became apologetic.

"Oh," she said fretfully, "I _didn't_ tell you, and I'm sorry. At the time there was so much happening, and Ron and I had just... well, we weren't exactly on friendly terms," she said, remembering the strain they had both been under just before Christmas. "It just seemed so far away and really, I didn't even know if I'd be accepted or if I would go. I only did it to keep my options open, you know?"

"But now you want to go," Ron said, his voice oddly strained.

"Well," she hesitated, "yes, I think I do. I mean, what is there for me if I stay here? A desk job at the Ministry? I want to do more; I want to travel and see new things. And this program takes students from wizarding schools all over Europe, not just Hogwarts. It sounds exciting, don't you think?"

Harry watched Ron carefully, knowing that his friend didn't want to let on how upset he was by the thought of Hermione leaving them. "It does, it sounds great. I think you'd be perfect in a setting like that," he said encouragingly. "Don't you, Ron?"

Ron seemed to snap back to the present and nodded. "Yeah. Perfect," he said, taking another bite of cereal. "Sounds really..." He paused and met Hermione's anxious gaze with a forced smile. "It sounds good. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Ron," she smiled, visibly relieved.

"We'll miss you," Harry said with a lopsided smile.

"Oh," Hermione breathed, her eyes threatening to well up. "I'll miss you, too. But," she said, shaking her head, "none of that right now. We haven't left Hogwarts yet and there are exams to be aced and house cups to be awarded. And I expect both of you to put in a respectable showing for Professor McGonagall today."

Harry smiled. He had no doubt that wherever Hermione ended up, she would always be able to command attention and accomplish exactly what she set out to do. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and the three of them gathered up their things and left the Great Hall together.

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A few days later, Harry and Ginny sat under a tree by the lakeside enjoying their last day of being students together at Hogwarts. They had not talked very much about Harry not being at the school next year, not wanting to dwell on the fact that they would be forced apart just when they had finally found each other. But Ginny consoled herself with the knowledge that he would at least be spending the summer at the Burrow since he had no other home to go to. Not yet anyway.

"Do you think we'll ever sit here by the lake like this again?" Ginny asked, pulling Harry's arms around her as she sat nuzzled with her back against his chest.

"Not very likely, is it," he said, holding her close.

"No, I suppose not. Guess I'll have to find some other boy to come down here and sit with me next year," she sighed mockingly.

Harry grinned and tickled her, making her squirm in his arms. "Is that so? Will you take him to the storage room, too? And the alcove in the library? And into the forest?" He laughed as she squealed and writhed, begging him to stop. She turned to face him, breathless and flushed with laughter as he pulled her face toward him and looked into her eyes.

"Will you let him do _this_ to you?" he said, bringing his lips to hers softly at first, then with growing intensity.

She fisted her hands in his robes and pulled him closer, climbing onto his lap. "Not a chance," she whispered. "This is only for you."

They continued to explore each other until Harry suddenly broke away. "Hey," he said in a throaty whisper. "I think we need to slow down a bit. Someone might see us."

"Sorry," Ginny grinned and quickly climbed off of him.

"Oh, don't be sorry," he said, taking her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips. "I'm all for it. Just not here."

Ginny sat beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm just glad we'll have the summer together at least."

"Mmm," he hummed. "I've been thinking about that."

Ginny frowned at his tone. It sounded like he was about to deliver some bad news. "What about it?" she asked, sitting up.

"Well... you and me... living together... in your house. It's odd, isn't it? It seems odd."

Ginny shrugged. "I suppose it is a bit. But so what?"

"We'll never have a chance to just be with each other, that's what. Alone, without everyone watching. I mean, now that we're dating, won't your parents be very..."

"Obnoxiously nosy?" Ginny supplied.

"I was going to say overprotective."

"Yes, I'm sure they will," she said. "But we can work around it, Harry. And it's not as if you have another home to go to. I mean..." Ginny turned to him with an apprehensive look. "You don't, do you? You and Ron haven't decided to get a flat somewhere or anything, have you?"

"No, we haven't," Harry said. "We haven't actually made any plans at all. But that's just it, Gin. What am I going to do now? I can't just live at the Burrow for the rest of my life. I used to think I wanted to be an Auror. But ever since that night in the cave... I don't know," he said pensively. "I think I want to put dark wizard hunting behind me for a while. Did you know that Hermione's going to Switzerland? That might be interesting, to travel around and see new things."

"Well, there's no rush to figure it all out right now," Ginny said softly. "You've had your destiny mapped out for you your whole life. And now it's finally fulfilled. I think you deserve some time off." She took his hand in hers and gave him a plaintive look. "Please, Harry. It's only a two-month holiday and then I'll be back here and you can go off and do whatever it is you need to do. But for right now, just stay with me. Please?"

Harry didn't answer, and she could see the wheels still turning in his head, making her feel suddenly unsure. Perhaps she was being too pushy.

"Unless you think you'd be happier on your own," she conceded. "I suppose it is a bit much, asking you to put up with mum and dad when you could have your own place somewhere."

"No, it's not. It's not at all." He reached out to caress her cheek. "I know we won't be able to see each other very much once you come back to school next year, so if you want to spend one last summer at the Burrow losing to me at Quidditch and dodging your family so we can find a quiet place to snog, then that's what I'll do."

Ginny grinned and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Harry. I won't let them drive us mad, I promise."

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"And the winners of the House Cup with 312 points..." Dumbledore paused at his podium for effect. "Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaws erupted in shouts and applause as the banners hanging from the ceiling of the Great Hall changed from Gryffindor red to Ravenclaw blue. The Gryffindors clapped politely, having taken second place.

"Well, at least we still hold the Quidditch Cup," Ron said over the noise.

"Yeah, thanks to Ginny's five goals against Hufflepuff last week," Harry said, putting his arm around Ginny's shoulder.

"And your ten-minute catch against Slytherin," Ginny returned, making Harry grin.

"And Ron's upside down save against Ravenclaw," Hermione reminded them, causing Ron to swell with pride.

"We were a pretty good team, weren't we," Harry said.

"Yep, we were," Ron said, casting a sideways glance at Hermione, who smiled back at him. "A pretty good team."

Harry looked over at the beaming Ravenclaw faces and found Ellie, chatting animatedly with her friends. After an awkward start to the term in Potions, Harry had eventually been able to let go of the pain she had put him through, and he was now able to remember the good times they'd had together. Their relationship had had an odd start, to be sure, but he was glad for it. If Ellie hadn't shown him what love could do to a person, he might never have been able to admit his feelings for Ginny at all.

He felt Ginny's warm breath on his ear, bringing him back to the present. "I love you," she whispered. He smiled and reached under the table to lace his fingers through hers as Dumbledore began to speak again.

He spoke of the future and hope for a better wizarding world, one without fear or oppression, and Harry saw more than one person wiping away tears. But the headmaster did not make any mention of Voldemort's defeat or the events that had transpired in the cave several weeks before. Harry had asked him privately not to call out him or Ginny as heroes. There had been enough hero worship to last him a lifetime, and he felt that if anything, they should be looking ahead and celebrating, not dwelling on the past. Dumbledore had agreed and told Harry once again how proud he was of the man he had become.

But now, the leaving feast was over, and even though Harry had no idea what he would do next, he felt that he would always have a home at Hogwarts. As the remaining dishes disappeared from the tables, Harry stood with his friends and looked around the Great Hall for the last time. Scanning the head table, he caught Dumbledore's eye. The headmaster smiled at him fondly and gave him a small nod. Harry nodded back, feeling a tightening in his chest, then reached for Ginny's hand and followed the crowd out of the hall.

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The Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross Station just as the sun was beginning to sink in the sky. Hermione retrieved Crookshanks' cage and carried it while levitating her trunk down the corridor ahead of her. As her last duty as Head Girl, she had been charged with making sure all the compartments were empty before deboarding herself. Her task finished, she made her way to the end of the train car, looking keenly out the windows for Harry and Ron. She hoped they hadn't already left the station.

"Hey!" an angry voice called out ahead of her. Her trunk had crashed into another one that was in the process of floating out from one of the compartments. Draco Malfoy's white blonde head popped out of the door as he looked to see who had dented the leather on his custom made trunk. "Oh, it's you," he snapped.

"Sorry!" Hermione called, rushing forward. "I didn't see you. What a mess." She looked over the contents of their trunks, which had spilled together on the floor. Taking out her wand, she began sending things back to their proper places.

"Is your end of the train all clear?" Hermione asked, shifting Crookshanks to her other arm. He had spotted Malfoy's eagle owl in its cage and was now hissing at it rather angrily. "Crookshanks, quiet!"

"It would appear so, since I'm leaving," he said, gesturing to his trunk. "Or trying to anyway."

"Well, maybe if you'd help instead of standing there..." she pointed out, wrestling with the shaking cage in her hand. "Crookshanks!"

"Here," Draco said, holding out his hand. "Give him to me."

Hermione handed over the cage, grateful to have the animal out of the way for the moment until she saw Draco point his wand into the cage and mutter a spell, causing it to go very still.

Hermione stared in shock for a moment before launching herself over the trunks at him. "_What _did you do?" she yelled.

"I just put a sleeping charm on him for Merlin's sake," Draco said, taken aback. "You should have done it hours ago. Kneazles hate being cooped up, you know. Everyone knows they should be charmed to sleep while they travel." He looked into her flushed face and registered her look of surprise at this news. "You... you thought I'd _killed _him!"

"No, I didn't," she said, regaining her composure. "Don't be ridiculous."

Draco shook his head. "I have a feeling that you will never cease to amaze me, Granger. And not in a good way."

"It just surprised me, that's all," she scowled and turned away to finish clearing up their trunks.

Once they were set to rights, Hermione took Crookshanks back and bumped along towards the platform with Draco close behind her. They set their trunks and cages on separate trolleys and stood together for a moment, looking around for familiar faces among the crowd jostling their way toward the barrier into Muggle London.

"Well, Malfoy, we made it," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. "A whole year of working together and we're still alive to tell about it."

Draco smirked. "I'd have never believed it was possible. You know, Dumbledore told me you'd be a real challenge, and he was right. I feel sorry for the next bloke who tries to cross your path. He won't know what hit him."

As he spoke, his expression softened into something that might have been mistaken for admiration, and Hermione thought that, for good or bad, she had never met anyone quite like Draco Malfoy, and probably never would again. She returned his thoughtful gaze.

"Draco, I…"

"Take care of yourself, Granger," he said, and with a hint of a smile, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"There you are!"

Hermione heard a shout behind her and turned to see Ron, Harry and Ginny making their way toward her.

"Oh, I'm so glad you haven't left!" she exclaimed. "I was just finishing up on the train."

"Of course we wouldn't leave without saying goodbye," Harry said. "But the Weasleys are waiting for us, so we'll have to make it quick." He reached out and drew her into a tight hug. "Have a great time at your new school, I know you'll knock 'em dead."

"Oh Harry," she breathed. "I can't believe this is it."

"Shh, this isn't it," he replied softly. "I'll talk to you soon. Maybe I'll even come visit you in Switzerland, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "I'd love that."

Harry let go of her and Ginny stepped in for a quick hug. "Take care of him," Hermione said.

"I will," Ginny smiled.

"And if they don't make you Head Girl next year, I'm going to write to Dumbledore myself!"

Ginny laughed. "Goodbye, Hermione. Take care."

Hermione watched as they walked away, hand in hand, then turned at last to Ron. He smiled warmly at her, and she threw her arms around his neck. He held onto her, pressing her tightly to him so that he would never forget what she felt like.

"Oh, Ron," she whispered. "We'll see each other soon. And I'll write, I promise I will, and tell you everything that's happening in Switzerland and…" She stopped and he could tell she was crying.

"Goodbye, Hermione," he whispered into her ear, not daring to say any more. He released her and she stood looking up at him with a watery smile.

"Goodbye," she said. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then hurried away toward the barrier where his parents were waiting.

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"Ginny!" Harry whispered loudly from his room at the Burrow, looking down the stairs toward her bedroom door.

Ginny stuck her head into the hallway. They had only just gotten home and she was still unpacking her trunk.

"What?" she called back. Harry gestured for her to come upstairs and she quickly obliged. "What is it?" she asked.

"Come flying with me," he said with a silly, expectant grin on his face.

"Harry, I haven't even unpacked yet and anyway, it's dark outside!"

"I know, but please come with me. There's something I've been waiting to do. C'mon, there's a moon out. We'll be fine."

Ginny crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Something you've been waiting to do."

"Yes."

"With me."

"Yes."

"And it can't wait until morning."

"No. Well, alright, it could, but... No, I definitely want to do it now."

"Am I still going to respect myself in the morning?" she asked with a suggestive look.

"Stop it," Harry grinned. "It's nothing like that. I promise."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, wondering what was up his sleeve, before giving in. "Oh, alright. I'll get my broom."

"No, let's take mine. We can fly together," Harry said, fishing his Firebolt out of his trunk.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Oh, _that _kind of flying."

She waited until Harry was hovering just outside his window and climbed onto the ledge, swinging one leg over his broom and hanging onto his shoulders as she jumped on. Harry sped away into the night, flying through the warm summer breeze as Ginny tightened her arms around his waist. She looked around at the landscape below, wondering where he might be taking her, when the large oak tree at the edge of the field of flowers loomed into view. Harry began a descent toward it, landing softly at its base.

"The oak tree?" Ginny asked, climbing off the broom and looking up at the moonlight filtering through its tall branches. "Why here?"

"Well," Harry said, leaning the Firebolt against its gnarled trunk, "I was thinking that we've had quite a lot of ups and downs in our relationship."

"We certainly have," she agreed.

"But this tree in particular seems to have gotten more than its share of bad moments." He took her in his arms and held her loosely, the way he had on the day when she had first tried to kiss him here, and he gazed at the moonlight shining on her face the way it had when he had kissed her for the first time, just before she had told him about her struggle with Tom Riddle.

"Has it?" she asked curiously. "But I love this tree. I always think of it as 'ours' somehow."

"I do, too," he smiled. "Which is why I think it deserves a _good_ moment. So," he said softly, pulling her closer, "I'm going to kiss you and you're not going to tell me to stop or jump up and run away. And you're going to kiss _me_ and I'm not going to act like a complete prat and deny how I feel about you. Ready?"

Ginny stared at him, open-mouthed. "You've really planned this all out, haven't you?"

"Yes. Now, are you ready?"

Ginny grinned. "Yes, you silly boy."

He lowered his head and planted his lips firmly on hers, snaking one hand through her hair and the other around her waist. She sighed as he held her tighter, and he felt her hands pressing against his back, sending a delicious warmth through him.

He thought of their past, of all the circumstances that had kept them apart and then driven them together. He thought of their future and hoped that no matter what roads they took, they would follow them together. And then he thought of nothing else but this moment and how she felt in his arms.

Finally, he broke the kiss and looked into her half-lidded eyes. "How was that?" he asked.

"That was..." she said, catching her breath. "That was a good moment."

Harry smiled and kissed her again, for a very long time.

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Epilogue

"Happy Birthday, Princess," Harry said, leaning over Ginny as she sat at her desk on a warm August day, writing a letter to Maura to discuss some plans for their upcoming seventh year.

She looked up from her parchment and rolled her eyes. "You're going to call me that every year for the rest of my life now, aren't you."

Harry shrugged. "If you're lucky."

She laughed and swatted at him. "Prat."

"Oh," he said, waiving a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper in front of her. "You must not want this birthday present after all."

Ginny squeaked in surprise. "Present? But my party's not 'til tonight."

"You're right, I'll just wait 'til then," he said, backing toward the door. "No problem, just go back to your writing."

"Harry James, you bring that right back," she said.

"Come and get it," he said devilishly.

Ginny picked her wand up off the desk and pointed it at him. "_Accio present_!" It flew out of Harry's hands and neatly into hers.

"Or... you could do it that way," he muttered.

She grinned and moved to sit on the edge of her bed, shaking the parcel and holding it up to her ear. "Can I?" she asked.

"Of course you can," he smiled, sitting down next to her.

She tore off the paper unceremoniously to reveal a deep picture frame. It was edged in carved wood and covered with glass, but rather than a picture inside, it held a bunch of what looked like fresh herbs tied together with a red ribbon.

"It's... lovely, but…" She turned to him with a perplexed look. "What is it?"

He suppressed a grin at the look on her face. She was doing a very good job of pretending to be pleased when it was clear that she thought her boyfriend had just given her a bunch of weeds under glass for her seventeenth birthday.

"Look closer," he said.

Ginny squinted at the frame. "Well, that's parsley," she said, pointing to the far left of the frame. "Sage leaves next, that's obvious. And is that..." The answer finally dawned on her as she identified the pointed spikes of the rosemary plant, and she fell speechless. She looked up and saw Harry looking back at her with such love in his eyes, her heart caught in her throat. He took the frame from her and smiled.

"Parsley to take away bitterness, sage for strength, rosemary for faithfulness, and thyme for courage," he said.

"Oh!" her voice hitched. "You remembered."

"I was out in the garden the other day and saw them all growing together. It reminded me of that day when we went boating on the lake and you sang that song to me. And I thought maybe you could take it to Hogwarts with you and when you look at it, you could think of me, of us."

She kissed him on the cheek. "I will. I love it," she said. "But what will _you_ take to remember_ me_ by?"

"I don't need any help to remember you," he said, nuzzling her neck. "I'll remember every bit of you."

She chuckled and pushed him away. "Oh, no, Potter. While I'm stuck up at Hogwarts and you're off traveling all over the country, I want you to remember that you're mine while you're fighting off all those women."

"Ginny, please," he groaned. "I'm not going to be fighting off any women."

"Oh, that's right. _No one_ will be interested in the Chosen One wearing tight-fitting Quidditch robes."

It had only been a week since Harry had been offered a position as Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons. He'd agreed to try it out for one season as a temporary job until he could work out what he wanted to do with his life. That and the fact that Ron had threatened to disown him if he gave up the chance to play Quidditch professionally. Ron had secured an entry-level job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, with the help of his father, and couldn't wait to share all the ins-and-outs of working at the Quidditch League with Harry.

But despite Harry telling her repeatedly that he would be spending the majority of his time at grueling practices and having an occasional pint at the Leaky Cauldron with Ron, Ginny had gotten it into her head that he would be besieged by crazy fans everywhere he went. He certainly hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Ginny searched through her room, pulling out drawers haphazardly. "There's got to be something in here I could give you," she mumbled, getting down on her hands and knees to look under her bed.

"Aren't you being a bit silly?" Harry asked, peering at the lower half of her body which was sticking out from under the bed.

"Aha!" came a muffled call. Ginny reappeared, her hair askew and her fist closed tightly around something.

"Aha what?" Harry asked.

She opened her hand to reveal a crumpled red hair ribbon. "There," she said, smoothing it out. "It's a little sappy, but it'll do in a pinch." She held the ribbon out to him.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked, giving her an uncertain look.

"I don't know," she said. "Aren't you supposed to carry it around with you or tie it to the hilt of your sword or something? That's what the knights used to do with them anyway, carry little things from their ladies as they went into battle."

Harry stared at her. "First of all, the knights didn't tie ribbons around their swords. That's just stupid. And second, since when have you ever sent me into battle alone? I seem to recall you battling right alongside me on more than one occasion."

"Oh, just put it in your pocket. It will make me feel better," she said dismissively.

Harry shook his head and shoved the ribbon deep into the pocket of his jeans. "You're mental sometimes."

"I know," she grinned, flopping onto the bed beside him. "But that's why you love me."

_The End_

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_Author's Note_

I can't believe it's over! I started writing this story in December of 2004, took a year and a half to finish it, and 6 months to post it. It's been a life-changing experience for me in more ways than one, and I'm so glad you could share it with me.

So, Harry and Ginny are finally happy. But as you can see, I've left several of the storylines open for sequels, especially in regards to Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Maura. I don't have any immediate plans to write any sequels, but if the inspiration strikes me in the future, I may just have to revisit them.

Thank you to my faithful reviewers, whether you reviewed every chapter or only popped in once to tell me your thoughts. I read every word.

I mentioned a while back that I would list some songs I used for inspiration. Think of it as the "For Your Love" soundtrack:

_Title Song_: "For Your Love" by The Yardbirds

_Harry & Ginny's theme:_ "You and Me" by Lifehouse

_Harry & Ellie's theme:_ "You Learn" by Alanis Morissette

_Ginny & Colin's theme:_ "Everything You Want" by Vertical Horizon

_Ron & Hermione's theme:_ "The Promise" by When in Rome

_Chapter 6 lyrics: _"Scarborough Fair", traditional English ballad

_Chapter 12 title:_ "Hey Jealousy" by Gin Blossoms

Love and Peace to you all,

Lisa


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